


War Trophy

by LPSunnyBunny



Category: Homestuck
Genre: (sort of), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Choking, Eridan takes Dave as a trophy, Humans lost, M/M, Mind Break, Moral Break, Moral corruption, POV Alternating, Past Child Abuse, Psychological Torture, RP Style Formatting, Sexual Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Trolls Are Space Nazis But More Complicated, Trolls Invade the Earth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 77,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24028747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPSunnyBunny/pseuds/LPSunnyBunny
Summary: Trolls invaded Earth. Humans lost, but not without putting up a damn good fight. In the aftermath, Commander Ampora takes interest in one of Earth's warriors... and decides to claim him for his own.
Relationships: Eridan Ampora/Dave Strider
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This used to be a solo fic. Now I'm RPing it instead. <3

They descended on Earth without mercy.

They called themselves 'Trolls'. A great, alien race with starships and battle power unlike anything that Earth had ever witnessed. They made no attempts at treaties, or peace, or alliances. They had come to wage war, and so war they waged.

But humanity is resilient. Humanity does not roll over onto it's belly when something threatens it. Humanity picks up arms, and fights back. Humanity rages against that which would destroy it.

Humanity fought their hardest. They crafted new weapons, armed their best, took to the skies, the lands, the seas.

The losses were astronomical. Massive swathes of humanity were wiped out, entire countries of people destroyed by orbital bombardment before the leaders of the world stood down and surrendered.

Some humans said 'no'.

Some humans said 'we will not surrender our planet to invaders'.

Some humans continued to fight. These humans are being ruthlessly hunted down, one by one, by aliens and goverments alike.

It's unfortunate for Dave Strider that he, and his Bro, are two of these people who have now been captured.

They've been brought before the great commander himself, Commander Ampora. Shoved to their knees and disarmed and put in cuffs to await their sentancing.

Dave expects them to die here. Bro is as stoic as always, but Dave can read his furious unease in the set of his shoulders.

Dave doesn't look over. To do so is a sign of weakness. And kneeling here, waiting for death, Dave refuses to be weak.

The war itself was not personal, it never is. The Alternian Empire held no grudges against Earth, humanity, or any of its governments. Just as they had conquered civilizations in the vast rings of the galaxy, they had come for Earth. But while the war itself wasn’t personal, many actions taken during the course of the conflict were. While the Alternian Empire itself held no grudges, that was not true for individual Alternian leaders.

Commander Eridan Ampora had directly led his crew into battle. Bombardments from the skies, submerging into the sea for naval maneuvers, and even the occasional breaching of land to take the fight directly against rebel holdouts—he was on the frontlines with his fleet. This tactic, however, came with its problems. Direct confrontation with certain rebels had proven more intense than he had imagined. He had underestimated some humans, and it had cost him. Two scars tainted his once-photogenic face, running from his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, and along a cheek.

Commander Ampora held a grudge.

The culprit—one of the supposed last hopes for rebel forces—held out in the urban ruins of Houston. After scouring the city for weeks, his men had finally found him and his younger brother, bringing them aboard his ship as prisoners of war. While rules of engagement typically called for the employment of a threshecutioner to cull enemy combatants, the Commander decided to handle this matter personally. Surely an exception could be made to the rules for a military officer of his standing.

As the humans were thrown before him, Eridan beckoned for one of his officers to step forward. She brought forward a sleek, steel sword that had been found on the older human’s person. He ran a finger along the broad side of the blade, feeling the material against his skin. This was it.

He approached the two kneeling humans, looking them over intently. The younger one seemed to be around Eridan’s age and attractive enough to join Eridan’s personal collection of prisoners aboard his ship. The older one? The one who had scarred Eridan in the midst of battle, in front of Eridan’s officers? Well, he had no use for that one.

“I believve wwe remember howw many blowws you managed to land on me at our last encounter, Strider,” he said, staring down at the older human. “I feel it’s only fair for me to get the same opportunity.”

Eridan drove the blade through the older Strider’s chest, quickly pulling it back as the human fell forward to the floor. _One_. One of Eridan’s men stepped forward to pull the dying human back up to his knees. Eridan raised the sword, bringing it down in a streak of silver. _Two_. The severed head fell to the floor of the ship with a thud, the body falling backwards as blood sputtered from his neck.

Dave raises his chin slightly as the Commander looks at him. He suppresses a smirk at the sight of his scars that his Bro left on this alien fucker. He'll forever remember the fighting power of humans every time he looks in the mirror and _Dave's Bro put it there._

He keeps his face smooth. Bro's always drilled into him how important it is to keep his emotions in check and now Dave's thankful for it, because his heart is pounding. He is, in fact, terrified.

Dave doesn't want to die. He's pretty sure this is where his story ends, but he refuses to show fear. He's going to go down as a god. damn. hero. Strong and unflinching to the end.

The Commander is holding Bro's sword. His unbreakable sword, the one that's served Bro through thick and thin.

_ Sclink-crunch _

Bro makes a wet little gurgling noise as his sword is buried in his chest, pitching backwards.

Dave's eyes are wide. He stares forwards. Don't break, Dave. Don't break. Don't break.

_ Shhhhckk _

Red sprays. Heat splatters along Dave's side.

Dave doesn't cry. He doesn't scream. There's a strange, peculiar numbness in his chest as he stares straight again. He can't look. He won't let his last memory be of Bro's- Bro's body. His... bleeding, collapsed, headless body.

He can see Bro's knees out of the corner of eye. Dave stares straight ahead.

Behind him back, his hands hang limp in the cuffs.

He can't breathe.

The blood from the second blow manages to hit Eridan himself, spattering across his face and uniform. He had just had it washed too. His bloodied glasses were pushed up his forehead as he pinched at the bridge of his nose in frustration, thinking for a moment. Not about the body before him, not about the still-living body beside the corpse, but about the disgusting mess. He reached behind him to grab an unsullied portion of his cape, cleaning off his glasses as best as he could.

"Havve the launderers stop by my quarters in roughly twwenty minutes, I'll need this to go through another cycle. Noww, polish this off and put it wwith the rest of the loot from their compound. I'vve got plans for it," he explained, handing off the katana to the officer who had provided it. Now, his gaze turned towards the younger one. Dave, was it? Eridan kneeled down in front of Dave, staring into the dark black void of simple aviators.

"You must be so scared. It's alright, that's just in your nature. Wwe'll get you cleaned off and settled in, prisoner. Much better in here than out there, I'll assure you of that. So long as you cooperate, of course," Eridan explained.

Eridan rose to his feet, pulling Dave up by the collar of his shirt. Turning around, Eridan began to head to his private quarters aboard the ship, his captive in tow.

Dave? _Scared?_ Dave feels his mouth twist into a sneer. He's still not looking. He _wont_ look, because now the numbness is fading into a sharp _fury_.

 _In your nature_. Fuck this prick. _Fuck him._ Dave isn't going to go quiet _or_ easy for him.

He's not looking.

When the Commander grabs him and pulls him up to his feet, Dave doesn't stumble. He plants his feet, digs in his heels, and _spits_ at the back of the Commander's head.

"You must be fucking stupid if you think I'm going to _cooperate_." He drawls, making his furious _furious_ anger with his usual devil-may-care bravado. "Clearly in all your war you haven't learned _shit_ about humans."

Eridan stops in his tracks as he feels the spit hit the back of his head, a sudden anger coursing through the arrogant commander. He reaches his free hand behind his head, wiping at the spit with the palm of his hand. Most of it manages to be swiped from his hair, although it remains damp. The hand around Dave's collar is lifted, but quickly finds a new home around Dave's throat.

Turning around to face Dave, Eridan firmly brings his free hand against Dave's cheek, slapping his wet hand against Dave's dry skin with a loud smack. He brought the hand back to his own face, wiping away some of the blood from Dave's brother, only to drag it across the cheek he had just slapped. Blood smeared across Dave's skin, blood from the brother he would never see again.

"I'vve learned quite a bit about your wweak kind," Eridan began, staring back into the abyss of Dave's aviators. "It's laughable to think I need your cooperation. I'vve broken plenty humans under my heel. You'd be no different. It wwould take time, it wwould take effort on my part, but it wwould happen. I suppose that's the path you're gonna take wwith your 'resistance', isn't it?"

Dave chokes as the hand closes around his throat and feels his stomach drop, but as the Commander slowly turns around, fury and promised pain in his eyes, Dave can only smirk at having put it there.

_ Crack _

A wet, rough sting against his cheek, pain radiating up his face as he jerks from the hit. The skin throbs angrily and Dave knows it will bruise, but it's drowned out by the sound of static as the fucking fish bastard _wipes Bro's blood on Dave's face._

It burns. It's like acid, eating into his skin, and he can barely focus over the furious hate boiling in his veins to understand the words the Commander is speaking to him.

"Hey, guess what." Dave croaks around the pressure on his airways.

" _Sic semper tyrannis, motherfucker._ " He doesn't care if this kills him. His weight shifts, the pressure on his neck increasing, and he slams his leg into the Commander's side, choking himself a little harder to use as much force as he physically can.

He's pretty proud of the hit. Trolls are sturdier than humans, but he's pretty sure he felt something _give_.

_Sic semper_ what? That one flies over Eridan's head. But whatever it was, he didn't have much time to think about it. Dave manages to bring a swift knee up to Eridan's ribs, sending him back slightly. Eridan stumbles back with Dave's neck still in his grip, before letting go to throw Dave to the floor. It was unlikely to be a cracked rib, but his side would definitely need some ice or sopor to dull the pain.

As Eridan stared down at Dave, a new idea sprung to mind. He motioned over for one of his officers, whispering some request into his ear. The officer was off, returning just a few moments later with some sort of metal device. A collar. _A shock collar._

Eridan lowered himself to the floor, kneeling on Dave's chest to pin him against the floor. His hands made quick work with the collar, affixing it around his slender neck. The officer handed over a small device comprised of a dial and a button.

"I assume you understand wwhat this is, yes?"

Dave hit the floor and wheezes a little chuckle at the Commander's _affronted_ expression. Shit, it feels good to put that there.

His throat hurts like a _motherfucker_ , though. He has to swallow a couple of times to help ease some of that pain. He doesn't try to get up- if the Commander wants him on his feet he better _make_ him.

Wait is that-

The Commander pins him to the ground with a knee and wraps a goddamn _shock collar_ around Dave's neck. Dave gives another wheezing laugh.

"Gonna collar me like a dog?" He looks up at the Commander. "Woof woof, bitch." He spits up into the Commander's face.

And Dave's 2-for-2 when it comes to expectorating. Eridan pockets the collar's remote for a moment, taking care to wipe more blood and saliva from his face. Another sharp smack across Dave's cheek, deliberately aiming for the same reddened skin as before. Satisfied with his initial response, he stands up from Dave's chest, stepping back slightly.

"Wwell, I suppose if you're gonna act like an animal..."

Eridan fishes the remote from his pocket, examining it for a moment. The dial ranges from a zero, inactive, to a ten, likely resulting in fatal electrocution. Well, that would be no fun, now would it? Eridan decides to start off with an oh-so-generous four, before pressing the button and activating the collar.

Dave grins as he sees the glob hit. He sees the wipe, knows what's coming, and relaxes his jaw, turning as much as possible with the hit.

 _Fuck_ it hurts. A deep explosive throb across the side of his face that radiates through his bones.

His head lolls slightly as he looks up at the Commander who's fiddling with the dial.

Fuck. This is going to _suuuuuuuck_. Good thing Bro trained him for-

before he can complete that thought, the Commander presses the button and Dave's body lights up with electricity. His arms spasm and yank at the cuffs, eyes rolling back, pain coursing through him, legs kicking out beyond his control.

There's a rough wheezing noise of pain tearing from his throat, but as the electricity subsides, it turns into a laugh, his limbs trembling faintly.

"That was it?" He asks, head rolling back to look up at the Commander. "I thought you ugly ass freaks were supposed to be _stronger_." He twists and spits at Eridan's feet again.

This is going to be hell.

Frustrating. Utterly frustrating. Eridan had no experience using this device before, but either a four wasn't enough in general or this human was shockingly resistant. Whatever the case may be, Eridan resolved to correct this minor flaw.

"Oh, I'm handlin' you rather gently. Wwouldn't wwant to hurt too many hairs on your pretty lil' head, noww wwould wwe?" Eridan asked. He pulled a leg back, kicking at Dave's ribs with his spit-slicked shoe. After his kick connected, he stepped back once more. Better safe than sorry when it came to electrical currents.

The dial was turned up to a five, hesitant to go much further. Eridan didn't want to make Dave _too_ accustomed to the shocks. Any sort of cultivated resistance would pose a problem down the road. For now, a five would have to do. He pressed the button once more, closely analyzing his prisoner. It was... _intriguing_ more than anything else. This human lost a genetic relative of his just moments previously, and he didn't seem to shed a tear over it. Arrogant quips and pathetic jokes came from his lips as if this was some minor brawl between two kismeses rather than the war it was.

_Pretty little head?_ Wow. That's almost irritating enough for Dave to-

 _fuck_ that's his ribs. Dave definitely feels a rib fracture. He's had that happen _more_ than a couple of times and he wheezes a little at the impact.

The Commander's twisting the dial on the remote. Great. Here comes more pa _in-_

Dave arches up again, eyes rolling back as he spasms, body thrashing and jerking as a gasping, choked keen slides from his mouth. It hurts, more than it did last time. How high does this bastard have it turned up? Dave can take more, he _knows_ he can, but god does it hurt, surging through his fucking _veins_ -

and then its done again and hes slumping to the floor, wheezing and, just to piss this asshole commander who _killed his Bro-_

Dave croaks out another laugh, head rolling back as he arches his back up with a heaving gasp. "So fuckinng scary." He slurs, shit. He's definitely loosing control a bit. Fuck it.

His body spasms slightly, twitching in the aftermath of the tazing. He laughs again, a wheezing noise of pain. "Gonna have tooo- do better than that to- knock me downn, pussyboiiii-" he breaks off into giggles. Fuck, he might be a little bit delirious from the pain.

After watching Dave's reaction to the most recent round of jolts, Eridan's fingers hover over the dial. It would be so easy. All he'd have to do would be a simple crank of the knob, a push of a button, and this problem would be gone forever. But...sometimes the most fun things, the most _rewarding_ things aren't easy. This was absolutely one of those times. Dave had already infuriated Eridan before on Earth, evading his capture for so long, killing so many of his men. Now, to be mocked and insulted like this on his own ship? Eridan would enjoy twisting, bending, and _breaking_ Dave.

Against all his better instincts, Eridan turns the dial once more. Rather than increase it a notch, however, he sets it back to zero and pockets the device. Dave was loopy enough, still lightly twitching. He wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight now. Eridan approached him once more, roughly handling him as he sat Dave up. He adjusted Dave to sit upright, before grabbing the back of his collar. And he began dragging.

Eridan dragged Dave's sitting body along the floor of his ship. It was a far cry from the simple obedience Eridan had wanted, but it was either this or continuing to fire electric currents until the human was passed out. Eridan held off on that experiment for now. Instead, he navigated his way to his private quarters, dragging the delirious, giggling Dave behind him, attempting to phase out whatever insults or mockery Dave was spouting off now.

Dave is surprised when the next shock doesn't come. He's fully expecting the Commander to keep going and torture Dave in front of his men, it sure seemed like something this bastard would do, but he doesn't. He pockets the switch, sits Dave up, and grabs the collar.

Dave can't really do much but he closes his eyes as the Commander drags him away, limbs twitching and airway threatened, wheezing slightly. Haha, he doesn't have to _walk_ , though. Getting dragged might be uncomfortable but it sure fucking beats making his surrender _convenient_ for this bastard.

Dave refuses to open his eyes, though, not until he's sure they're out of sight of Bro's body. He won't look at it because he's pretty sure if he looks he'll break and he _won't break._

But he will annoy the shit out of this bastard. Maybe if he does it enough he'll just kill Dave outright.

"Dammn, look at you, big bad captainn." Dave slurs out, gasping as he's dragged. "I hope we're goinng sommewhere funn annd nnot for more borinng torture." He chokes out another wheezing laugh.

With a flick of his wrist by his side, Eridan motions for his men to start cleaning up the scene behind them. Officers begin to pick up the major pieces—the triangular glasses that had fallen to the floor, the severed head, the headless body—and carried them away, while some lowbloods entered the room with mops and buckets. Eridan didn't look back, instead pressing forward with his captive dragging behind him.

It was almost amusing, the way Dave behaved. So thoroughly pained that he was acting like some impudent child pitching a fit. He doesn't want to play, he doesn't want to listen, he just wants to pout and whine. Eridan could see more than a kernel of his own stubbornness in Dave. Normally, that would be a cause for admiration, a sort of unwavering devotion to one's principles and beliefs. Now, however, it was just one big pain in the ass for Commander Ampoa.

"Just shut up, wwill you?" Eridan asked, kicking behind him slightly to press his heel into Dave's back. He continued his walking, heading to his own little wing of the massive Alternian ship.

Eridan opens the door to his master respiteblock with one hand, the other still clenched firmly around the fabric of Dave's shirt. He drags Dave into the bedroom, closing—and locking—the door behind them. After a few steps forward, Eridan let go of Dave, letting him collapse on the floor as he stood over him.

"Wwhy don't you givve into that ache you must be feelin'? Just doze off, Davve. It'll make this much easier for the both a' us."

The Commander kicks Dave and yes, _ow_ , fuck, his shoes have heels so that _hurts_ , but at the same time it makes him wheeze out another laugh because that means that he is _getting under the Commander's skin._

"Aye aye, o captainn my captainn." Dave slurs, trying to track all the corridors that the Commander is dragging him through.

Oh, wait. This is not... a prison cell. Huh.

Dave feels a fission of fear slip down his spine, but refuses to let it show as the Commander drops him to the floor.

"Easier?" Dave chuckles. "Nah. I'mm nnot gonnna mmake annythinng _easy_ for ya... bastard."

God please just kill him. If he pisses this guy off enough he'll probably lose his shit and just kill Dave, right? Dave doesn't want _anything_ to do with whatever this fuck is going to do to him

Eridan contemplates another kick to the ribs but decides on another course of action. Instead, he places a foot on Dave's ribs, applying pressure as he digs his heel downward. Just for a brief moment, nothing too sustained. He pulls his foot back, before dropping to one knee beside the injured Dave.

"I wwas gonna be dowwnright hospitable for you," Eridan sneered, looking down at Dave. He delivered another firm slap, this time backhanding Dave rather than employing the open-palmed slap. Gotta have some variety in your toying, after all.

"Wwas gonna let you clean off in a showwer, but I suppose a collared, misbehavvin' animal like yourself is more deservving of a bath."

Dave wheezes as the air is forced from his lungs by the heel pressing down on his ribs. Fucking _ow_ holy shit, holy shit- that's right over his goddamn fractured rib and the pain is _sharp_ , that fucking bastard.

But then his heel is gone and his face is nice and close and Dave's trying to work up enough spit for another go, but then the Commander backhands him and yes, _that's_ the time where something catches on the inside of his mouth and now his cheek is split open and blood is filling his mouth.

Wow. Dave's so fucking anime.

He spits a mouthful of blood right up into that bastard's face.

"Hey." He gasps, lightheaded from the pain. "Donn't you knnow about the- fuckinn genne- genneva connvenntionns?" Dave wheezes a laugh, wet and slurred. "If you're gonnna waterboard mme you better be ready for- the UNn to comme for your ass-"

Eridan flinches as a warm, fresh spatter of blood and spit sprays across his face, but he doesn't fall back. It takes every ounce of his willpower to maintain his composure, to not give into the rash desire to end it all right here, right now. Instead, he slowly reaches up to take off his blood-soaked glasses, setting them aside as he stares down at Dave. His eyes scan Dave's body, methodically analyzing him without speaking a word.

 _Geneva Conventions,_ now there was an Earthly reference Eridan understood. He had begun studying humanity's military history, and he was quite familiar with their willingness to limit themselves during war. But he was also familiar with their willingness to disobey those limitations. Waterboarding, now _that_ was something unique and innovative Eridan had discovered in his research. So perfectly cruel and inhumane. However...

 _"Wwaterboarding_? I meant a literal bath, you fuckin' reprobate," Eridan coldly replied, staring back into Dave's aviators. "You're positivvely revvolting like this, wwhich I cannot tolerate. I wwas gonna clean you off for the night.

He wasn't bluffing either. His irritation stemmed not just the blood and spit, but the filth and grime that came with residing on Earth's surface. Dave would need to be scrubbed clean if he were to reside in Eridan's quarters for the evening.

Damn, the bastard's scars look.... Dave was gonna say worse but they actually make him look _really really hot_ without his glasses. Unfair. This murdering alien fuck has no right to look that hot.

A literal bath, though? Dave gives another laugh. "Sure, mmy dude." He slurs. "Fuckinng _wash mme up, baby, do you treat all the ladies who comme here that nnice?_ " He twists his words to be in a high tone, giggly and mocking.

What the fuck is this guy's game? Dave feels delirious from the pain throbbing through his ribs, pounding in his skull. He knows if he was a bit more put together he could probably figure it out and that's _annoying_.

Shit, maybe he shouldn't have goaded him quite so much before, but damn, that was _fun_ and Dave will take every bit of petty revenge that he can get.

_Does he treat all the ladies who come here that nice?_ That was clearly intended as some sort of mocking dig, but it caught Eridan slightly off-guard. He typically didn't treat other prisoners this nicely, even his less-than-willing courtesans. He hadn't even considered _why_ he was doing this. There was something about Dave that was different than the others. This will to fight, this will to hold onto his last memories of his dying planet. Eridan supposed he wanted to enjoy breaking that away personally, rather than leaving him to waste away in the brig below deck.

Eridan turned around, walking away from Dave and toward one of the ornate dressers in the room. He opened a drawer and scanned the various instruments and devices. Some of these tools would be rather handy later for his own personal enjoyment, but Eridan had other priorities at the moment. After turning back around to approach Dave once more, the human would be able to see a pair of sharp scissors in Eridan's hands.

"Hold still, don't wwanna gut you just yet," Eridan instructed, returning one hand to grasp around Dave's neck. He pinned him to the ground, using his free hand to begin snipping away at the left sleeve of Dave's shirts, working as careful as possible with the human squirming _and_ with Dave's hands cuffed behind his back.

The Commander walks away and Dave uses the moment of his inattention to assess the damage.

Involuntary muscles spasms still happening from the shocks, as expected, deep breath- ribs only fractured still, thank fuck, his shoulders ache and his wrists feel raw from the yanking against the cuffs. His mouth is still bleeding, so he turns his head to the side and spits it onto the floor. His head is fucking _pounding_ , and his vision is swimming ever so slightly. Shades are somehow still intact, though, which is cool.

So, in summary: hurt, captured, but not quite out of it yet. Still cool.

The Commander returns with a pair of sharp scissors and pins Dave to the floor by his neck which, _ow_ , unnecessary. Dave's not about to get stabbed in the neck from trying to fight when the bastard... is, yeah, he's cutting Dave's shirt off.

Dave swallows, feeling the pressure against the Commander's hand and wheezes a little laugh.

 _"Aye aye."_ He slurs. Fuck, his shoulders are really starting to ache. He spits another mouthful of blood onto the floor. Crist, he knew headwounds bleed, are mouth.... wounds the same way?

It's a mess trying to work Dave's shirt off in his current position, his arms behind his back and hands cuffed. The scissors end ups practically shredding the shirt after Eridan is done, eventually tearing the rags away from Dave's body. Yep, there's a bruise right in Dave's side. And... _oh_.

Scars. Not the deep, rough scars of a threshecutioner's sickle. Not the burns or sears of a laser rifle. Not the work of any Alternian weaponry. No, these scars...they were familiar. Eridan set the scissors aside, unable to hold himself back from tracing his fingers across the scars littering Dave's chest and arms. They were the work of the same blade that had left him with the two gashes along his face. Seems like Dave was molded into a fighter long before any war broke out.

Eridan said nothing as he reached down to unbutton Dave's pants, yanking them down his legs. They joined the pile of tattered shirt scraps as Eridan gazed down at Dave, left in just his underwear and shades. He had definitely made a good choice for his next _personal_ captive.

The Commander tears his shirt off and Dave wheezes another laugh. "Careful," he slurs, "it's vinntage."

But then. The Commander is running his hands over the scars on Dave's body and Dave is _really_ uncomfortable, holy shit, what is he doing. It feels almost- curious? Reverent? Dave can't tell. Either way, he _doesn't want it._

The Commander moves on without a word, which is the most unnerving part. He pulls Dave's pants off none-too-gently, and then Dave is left in his underwear and shades.

Idly, Dave wonders why the fuck his shades are still on. Usually that's the first thing people try and take from him. Not that he's complaining, he could be ass naked and wearing his shades and still feel fully clothed.

"You donne oglinng the goods?" Dave slurs.

"Shut up," Eridan replies, harsh and blunt as he stands to his feet once more.

He brushes himself off, trying to ignore the drying blood on his face as best as he can. It's something he's used to after so many orphaned lusii on Alternia and so many battles on planets throughout the galaxy. Just because he's used to it doesn't mean he _enjoys_ it, or even tolerates it. That will need to be taken care of rather soon. Still, he also has a human to clean up as well. Usually he'd have a lowblood come into the chamber to handle cleaning up the prisoners. This human, however, seemed to be strong. Willing to fight. Willing to die. A lowblood would likely be overpowered by this human, even in his current state.

Eridan's brain attempts to work backwards from a conclusion he already has in mind: he'll have to bathe this human himself.

"At least try to keep your balance for this next part," Eridan instructed, reaching down to pick up Dave. He held onto Dave's legs as he tossed him over his shoulder, balancing Dave rather precariously. This balancing act would be much easier without Dave's hands bound. Without Dave's hands bound, however, he'd also be able to fight back. Gotta make tough decisions sometimes. Eridan begins to walk to the bathroom adjacent to his bedroom, attempting to keep Dave in his grasp.

His balance? What for-?

Dave is hauled to his feet in a, quite frankly, _unfair_ display of strength, and tossed over the Commander's shoulder. The breath is knocked from him as his fractured rib is knocked again and he chokes on nothing.

His head is definitely spinning right now. Holy shit. His ribs _hurt_ and theres nothing he can do about it but hang over this bastard's shoulder and let blood drip from his mouth.

Dave suddenly wishes he could puke on command. That would be really, really funny right now.

He really doesn't want to be dropped, so he just giggles weakly and says on a gasp, "annyonne ever tell you you have a bonney ass?"

That's not true. The Commanders ass is actually really really nice looking. Dave's kind of jealous.

Eridan mumbles something incomprehensible under his breath at Dave's mocking question, shifting him slightly so Dave's side is pressing harder into Eridan's shoulder. It's the little maneuvers that can cause the most pain, Eridan had found.

Eridan pushed open the doors to the bathroom with his foot, maintaining his firm grasp on Dave to prevent any attempted escape or accidental slip. Carefully, he navigated over to the bathtub, resting Dave down on the floor. He turned around to shut the bathroom doors, locking them from any potential intruders. As he returned to tihe tub, he towered over Dave, taking in another look at him.

The bruising. The scarring. The blood. In spite of all of it, Dave still looked...charming. Handsome. It infuriated Eridan, that ability to maintain some sort of physical composure while his brain was seemingly on the fritz following electroshock torture. It was a sort of composure that he didn't expect to find in a human, but here it was.

Leaving Dave on the floor, Eridan began to fill the tub with water. The commander worked his own outfit off, unfastening the brass buttons and laying his cape and jacket aside. Keeping Dave in his peripheral vision, Eridan began to amass a stacked pile of his bloodied, worn clothes. These had just been washed earlier in the day. Yet another problem with executing people yourself, it seems.

Pain steals through him as the Commander shifts Dave on his shoulder, knocking the wind out of him again at the motion puts pressure on his fractured rib.

Then Dave is lowered to the floor, instead of dropped, like he expects to be. Huh. Alright. He watches blearily as the Commander locks the bathroom doors.

Ha. No daring naked escape from the bathroom, then. The thought makes Dave grin, leaning his head to spit out blood onto the floor again.

He watches the Commander strip and wow. Okay. That's so unfair that he's hot underneath his clothes, too.

"What's the procedure for lodginng a formmal commplainnt onn this wretched ship?" He's a bit loopy but he thinks his words are still coming out legibly. "The ac-commmadationns suck." He slurs, "annd the cap-i-tann is unnfairly hot."

Whoops. He didn't mean to say that second half. Ah, well, maybe it'll throw him off his game.

That _definitely_ threw him off his game, but he managed to hide the light blush on his cheeks by turning away from Dave. He walked over to a small closet, procuring two towels and a small stack of washcloths. He returned to the tub, dampened a washcloth under the running water, and carefully removed his glasses from his face. He wiped the blood—that of both Dave and Dave's brother—from his face, slowly cleaning off every last drop from his face. Keeping his gaze focused on Dave, he quickly dipped his face under the faucet, letting the warm water fully cleanse his face and run through his hair.

After pulling back, Eridan placed his glasses back on his face, quickly drying off his hair with another nearby washcloth. Now came the hard part.

Eridan stood over Dave, pinning him to the floor with one hand while the other did the dirty work of removing—or _attempting to remove—_ Dave's underwear.

Dave watches blearily as the Commander washes up at the sink. There's a brief, wild, crazy thought of doing something while his head is under the stream, but- be realistic, Strider. You're injured and in cuffs with no weapon. Now is _not_ the time for heroics.

Dave doesn't know if he should be thankful that he might get a chance to kill this fucker or scared that the Commander isn't killing him outright.

Bro would've already escaped by now, Dave bets, and feels a stab of grief, watching the Commander straighten up and dry his hair.

Nah. Don't think about that. Leave it for later. He needs to keep his head together.

Ha. As much together as he _can_ right now.

Dave doesn't resist as the Commander pins him to the floor again, a lopsided grin on his face as he works off Dave's underwear. "Buy mme a drinnk first, why donn't you?"

"Sounds like you'vve had one too many already wwith the wway you're speaking," Eridan sneers in response, walking back over to the pile of folded-up clothing from which he had just stripped. He fumbled through the piles of fabric, eventually finding a dagger stashed in a breast pocket, the key to Dave's handcuffs in a pocket of his pants, and the key to the electric collar around his neck. Eridan quickly returned to Dave, lightly pressing the blade against Dave's bruised rib.

"Gonna take these cuffs off so you can get bathed. You try anything, I stab you. You don't die. You bleed a proper shitton, probably pass out, look real fuckin' pathetic. Wwell, more pathetic than you currently look, that is. Point is: you wwon't die, as much as you might wwant to. Just pointless suffering. Got it?" Eridan asked, lightly tracing the blade over Dave's skin.

As much as Eridan _knew_ it could backfire...he didn't want to bother complicating a bathing by having Dave's arms restrained behind his back. Besides, it appeared that Dave was in no state to actually hold his own and fight back against Eridan, even if he tried.

Dave grins a bit at the Commander's words. "I wish." He murmurs. Bring drunk would be so preferable to _this_.

He goes still, though, as the knife is pressed into his side. Right over his fractured rib. What a dick.

"Clear as crystal." Dave murmurs. Hey, he'll take his hands getting uncuffed over being cuffed any day, even if there's a threat of stabbing. "Hey." He gives the Commander a lopsided grin. "What do I get if I behave? Do you have ann early parole systemm? Mmore yard timme?"

Ah, he cracks himself up. Gallows humor. Baths humor?

Dave craning his head back to deliriously ask questions is oddly...charming, in a way. Eridan preferred responsive captives over those that may as well be dead fish, so it was a welcome response. Hell, under different circumstances, Eridan would find the silly grin on his face cute. It was...innocent, a stark contrast to the Dave that Eridan had seen in combat.

"Behavve, and you'll find out," he replied, holding the knife with one hand while the other unlocked the cuffs. He set the handcuffs aside, before focusing on the collar. Eridan slipped the collar off of Dave's slender neck, placing it aside while keeping the knife pressed against Dave's side. Finally, he turned the bathtub's faucet off. The tub was nearly full, a light steam coming off the water. Eridan liked it nice and hot against his cool body, but he deliberately ensured it wouldn't be too scalding for Dave. The thought of treating burns _on top_ of breaking this captive...less than ideal.

"Get in the bath," he ordered, simple and blunt.

Dave wheezes another laugh, but doesn't argue, slowly climbing to his feet. His legs feel unsteady so he ends up bracing himself against the edge of the tub, flexing his wrists as he carefully swings his legs over the edge and slips in.

Like, he knows the dude is _the Big Dick Commander_ of this fleet and all that, but _wow_. This is a disgustingly nice bathtub to be on a fucking _spaceship_.

And christ the heat of the water... it sinks right into his muscles, relaxing the ache, right to his bones. Even his rib feels better, and it's fucking fractured.

His eyes had slid closed as he sank into the water up to his neck, and he rubs his wrists over where the cuffs were cutting in as he gives the Commander a lazy grin.

"Right." He says. "Go ahead annd hold mme unnder nnow because I'mm good."

Eridan edges forward, pressing the edge of his knife against one of Dave's ears.

"Again: fight, cut, bleed, pass out, not-die. Got it?" Eridan asked, prepared to Troll Vincent van Gogh this human if he struggled. With the threat fresh, Eridan reaches out to grab Dave's aviators off his face. This was going to be a proper bath, and having to deal with cleaning up shampoo and conditioner from a pair of shades was an unnecessary and completely avoidable issue.

After setting Dave's glasses aside, he stepped away from the tub for just a moment, keeping his eyes on Dave as he walked backwards to a set of cabinets. His gaze was diverted for merely a moment as he grabbed some supplies, returning to the tub with his arms full of shampoo, conditioner, a bar of soap, some extra body wash, and a brush. This was Eridan's idea of a _light_ bath. The man was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to his physical appearance. He set the supplies beside the tub, taking his place next to Dave once more. And Eridan obliged Dave's request to 'hold him under'.

Eridan's hands move to Dave's shoulders, quickly submerging him in the warm water without warning. After a few seconds, he pulls Dave back up to the surface, satisfied with Dave's now-wet hair and face. A bit more than satisfied, actually. The way Dave's blond hair looks is...handsome, if Eridan was going to be entirely honest with himself.

Dave goes still at the knife press. "Tenn four good buddy." He says softly, giving the tiniest nod. He's not about to piss this dangerous dude off when the knife is _right next to his face._

And... yeah. Here go the shades. It was going to happen eventually, but fuck if it isn't uncomfortable having them get pulled off. He squints a little at the shift in light levels, now feeling more vulnerable and exposed than literally having every other piece of clothing stripped off him.

"Be careful with those." He says. "Those are unnique." He giggles a little. "Lotta mmovie fanns'll be real sad if they break."

He rolls his wrists out a couple of times under the water, flexing his fingers to test for any damage from the cuffs and is relieved when he doesn't find any. The Commander collected... a whole fuck ton of shit, actually.

"Wow." Dave says, watching him return. "What is this, alienn bath annd body wo- _gruuurksk_ -"

Oh that _bastard_. Dave almost lashed out at being shoved under the water, the water rushing into his mouth- and stinging like a _bitch_ against his cut cheek, fucking _ow_ -

he's kind of hoping that the Commander will just straight up drown him right now, but alas, he's yanked back above the surface, coughing, which _FUCK_ that aggravates his fractured rib.

"Bastard." Dave wheezes, reaching a hand up and shoving his wet hair out of his face. "Donn't you have anny decenncy for a mann's quips?"

"I do wwhen they're good. Your material is so-so, and your delivvery is pure rubbish," Eridan replied, looking Dave over—

Huh. They _were_ red. Eridan had assumed the light was catching in his eye oddly or that he was just seeing things when he first took the shades off. Now, as he gazed deep into the bright red irises of Dave's eyes, he realizes the whole situation behind the sunglasses. No other humans he spoken to, captured, or killed had eyes like this. So bright, so deep, so...colorful. It wasn't like a dull brown or a mellow green; they were piercing. Dave was an abnormality on Earth.

Eridan tried to quickly push these thoughts aside, catching himself staring. He hiked the edge of his boxer-briefs further up his thighs, before sitting himself on the edge of the tub, dipping his legs into the water and spreading them open. Eridan guided Dave through the tub by his shoulders, situating Dave between his legs and with his back toward Eridan. Efficiently positioning Dave to streamline this process? Yes. Probably making this a bit too personal and sensual? Maybe, but that was just a consequence they'd have to face.

Eridan pours some shampoo into his hands, before he goes in on Dave's scalp, lightly massaging it as he coats Dave's wet hair with shampoo.

"You knnow?" Dave murmurs, as the Commander stares down at him. "That is the mmost hurtful thinnk you have donne to mme so far." He complains, but then the fucking bastard is moving and he's-

wow okay this is weirdly intimate, with Dave between his legs like this. Dave should really not be letting his eyes flutter shut as the Commander starts shampooing his hair.

"Is this the part of the mmovie where you connfess you werennt really cut out to be a villiann, nno, you always wannted to be a hairdresser but nnnoooooo somme fammily obla- obli- fuckkit- thinng mmade you be a villiann?" Dave mumbles, trying really hard not to groan at how fucking _nice_ it feels to get his hair washed.

Look. A man can get his hair washed and have it feel really nice and still want to kill the person doing it and have perspective that it is the most ruthless murderer that humanity has ever seen. Get off his case.

"No," Eridan replied, frowning as he continued to work his shampoo-lathered hands through Dave's hair. "I wwas alwways meant to be this. Had to orphan back on Alternia or else evveryone wwould die. Had to kill to protect others, kill to survvivve. Pretty much wwhat I wwas meant to do," he continued, scrubbing, scratching, and massaging Dave's scalp with the shampoo.

Eridan placed his hands in the water, washing off the shampoo before resting his hands on Dave's shoulders. The human should know the drill by now. Another quick dunk under water. Two seconds pass...and he pulls Dave back up. Eridan tilts Dave's head back slightly, before beginning to reach into the tub, cup water in his hands, and pour the cupped water over Dave's head to wash away any remaining shampoo lather.

Dave listens to the Commander talk with a lazy fascination. Alternia must be their home planet- sounds like hell.

"Sounnds like every Charles Dickenns book about kids." Dave muses and gives a huff. "Little orphann annnie inn this bitch?"

God. Fucking shit this watch feels good what the hell. When was the last time Dave actually got to sit and _bathe_? A long ass time, it feels like.

He's not stupid, of course. He knows what the Commander is doing. Carrot and the stick is like. The oldest 'prisoner breaking' strategy in the book.

"Gonnna mmake the sunn comme out tommorrow?" Dave asks before holding his breath as he gets shoved beneath the surface.

"Do you alienn bastards have mmovies?" Dave wonders. At this point he's just saying shit to say shit. "Damnn I hope you do. It'd be a pretty borinng stay inn the pennthouse without sommethinng to watch."

"Wwe do," Eridan replied, running his hands through Dave's hair, giving a few more scratches and massages to his scalp.

He...didn't exactly know why. It was just a bit of a natural instinct. He didn't dwell on the _why_ of it for too long, instead opting to slather some conditioner in Dave's hair, beginning to cover Dave's hair once more.

"I havve plenty a methods for relaxing wwhen not in combat, but I don't suppose you'll havve much access to those luxuries as a prisoner. Especially givven your proclivvity to misbehavve," Eridan explained. "But your references wwent right ovver my head, so again: should wwork on your material."

Eridan was much more talkative with Dave than most prisoners, but this would be a much tougher captive to bend to his will than the others. He would have to put more time and effort into this endeavor, so some idle chatting would be required. Besides, Eridan had his share of physical brutality for the day. Even he had his limits, surprisingly.

Dave wheezes a laugh, resisting the urge to press his head into the Commander's touches.

"You wannt mmy referennces to immprove better be ready to show mme somme of those mmovies then." Dave drawls. "Otherwise it'll just be fuckinng Wall-e up inn this bitch forever- nno, nno- or fuckinng _Bright_."

He laughs again. Holy shit. Dave can just make whatever references he wants and they don't even have to make sense. This is great.

"But _mmoi_?" He adopts a fake-affronted voice. "Mmisbehaive? _Monnsieur_ you wounnd me. You wounnd my reputationn."

That laugh catches him off-guard. It's still delirious, still loopy, but...it sounds a bit more relaxed. It makes sense, given the nice temperature of the bath, but most captives tense up as a lowblood meticulously cleanses their body with Eridan keeping watch, knowing the fate they face. Dave...he seems relaxed. Eridan chalked it up to the delirium.

" _Oui_ ," Eridan replied bluntly to Dave's mock-offense, instantly regretting it. He shouldn't be indulging this ridiculous nonsense. Whatever, Eridan had picked up some French here and there since beginning his ongoing studies of the Napoleonic Wars. Might as well put that skill to use.

Eridan's hands moved back to Dave's shoulders, ready to plunge him under once more. Now, however, they lingered for a moment, Eridan's fingers softly tracing over Dave's skin. It doesn't last long; it's back to the regularly scheduled submerging and resurfacing.

It takes Dave's brain a moment to catch up and realized that the Commander had replied in French and by the time he put it together, he was being shoved under.

Interesting. So the Commander has studied parts of Earth in _some_ ways but not others? Interesting. He muses on this as he's dragged up above the water again. It doesn't escape his notice how the Commander's hands are lingering on his body, moving almost... _sensually_. Oh. Well. Alright. Daves skin is crawling, now, but he might be able to use this. Hopefully.

"Oh, shit?' Dave grins. His hands are floating under the water in his lap, and he has half a mind to just grab the Commander's ankles and jerk him under, but the probability of him dying is _pretty_ low considering he's got gills on either side of his neck.

"How much Earth shit did you evenn learnn, annyway?" Dave asks, a note of complaint in his voice. "How amm I supposed to mmake referennces when I don't know what material youve seen? Cruel annd unnust punishment, indeed ."

"Still learning," Eridan replied, cupping water in his hands before pouring it into Dave's hair, washing away stray bits of conditioner left behind. "Military history, tactics, strategy, political history, wwar, po—"

He cuts himself off. His response was carefully curated, maintaining the image of Eridan as a cold, cunning, methodological commander without regard for much else. But it wasn't like Dave would have much of an opportunity to gossip in Eridan's custody. Eridan decided to continue.

"Poetry, some languages, music, dance, art" he mused, mind drifting to the books he had been reading and videos he had been watching. "Again, still learning. Noww, give me an arm."

As if to show he wasn't about to cut off a limb or anything of that nature ( _yet_ , at least), Eridan raised the bar of soap, shaking it slightly.

Huh. Alright. An invading alien conqueror who's interested in the culture of who they're conquoring.

That's a new one.

"If you donn't knnow fuckinng Annnie thenn you're missinng out onn a huge cultural milestonne." Dave lets his head roll back, trying to look up at the Commander meaningfully as he raises an arm up out of the bath. This basically ends up with Dave's head resting on his thigh.

"Clearly gonnna nneed somme _proper_ cultural guidennce." Dave laughs. Yeah, the heat of the bath is making him more than a little dizzy. It's like a fucking sauna up in this bitch. "We cann do a cultural exchannge. I'll show you mmovies and thenn you cann kill us."

"I doubt wwe'd share the same interests in cinema, so I'll havve to decline on the first part," Eridan replied, holding Dave's wrist with one hand while the other grasped the soap. "The second part is still up in the air. Besides, not like you'd make any effort to appreciate _my_ culture."

Eridan began to soap up Dave's arm, running the bar over Dave's hand, arm, elbow, even raising Dave's arm enough to let Eridan wash off his armpit. He went over Dave's arm with the soap a few more times, sufficiently coating Dave's soft skin with suds. Slowly, he lowered Dave's arm back into the water, significantly gentler than the previous dunking.

"Other arm noww."

"Woooooow." Dave drawls. " _Nnow_ whos the innsennsitive one." He giggles a little bit as Eridan lowers his arm back into the water, raising the other one up. This is like the weirdest, most intense bathhouse wash he's gotten in his _life_.

It's also the only one. Point still stands.

"Mmaybe you're wronng." Dave drawls, his head shifting to rest on Eridan's thigh. "Mmaybe I _would_ be innterested." He grins lazily up at Eridan. "Mmight be nnice to see what kinnd of culture spawnned a bastard like you. What kinnd of mmedia that kinnd of culture spawnns inn returnn."

He wheezes another laugh. "Hey. You guys are alienns." He slurs. "That mmakes you scifi. What kinnd of scifi does a scifi culture write about?"

_Oh_. That's Dave's head on his thigh. Eridan tensed up at the contact. He had brushed away the initial rest as a potential mistake that occurred simply because Dave was lifting up his arm, but it was unmistakable now. He was just...resting it there. A light blush tinged at Eridan's cheeks and fins.

Despite his prestige in the Alternian military and his...successful sexual activity, Eridan didn't have high marks in his romantic life. Not a single quadrant of his had been truly filled in a meaningful sense in sweeps. It wasn't for a lack of trying; his attempts just ended in miserable failure. So who could blame him for having his heart skip a beat at the intimate feeling of someone resting their head against Eridan's inner thigh, especially when that someone was nude in a bathtub and Eridan was in just his underwear.

"I wwas just making an assumption about your interests," Eridan replied, beginning to scrub Dave's other arm with the bar of soap. "It wwould probably be better if I wwere to simply showw you rather than to inform you of some a' the films I enjoy. Titles tend to be a bit irritating to say."

Eridan lowered Dave's arm back into the water, before clearing his throat.

"Stand up, gonna get your back noww."

_Titles are irritating?_ That's weird. Dave files that away to ask about later when he's not halfway out of his mind.

He pauses. Considers the request.

"Nnot sure I cann." He decides. He's not actually trying to be a little shit here- which, even if he could, he probably wouldn't be because dying in a bathtub with your greatest enemy washing you is so uncool- but he's actually certain that if he tries to stand up, he is going to fucking collapse.

Oops. Maybe you shouldn't shock your prisoners-turned-bathees so much, _Commander_.

Yeah, that should be expected. All the same, it irritates Eridan, who lets out a slow exhale as he tries to keep his cool. He reaches over to grab the bottle of liquid soap, passing it down into Dave's hands.

"Try to apply that to yourself as best as you can like this. Wwould be better than nothing, I suppose," Eridan suggested.

Honestly, Eridan was unsure of when the last time Dave had bathed. Access to running water was spotty across Earth following much of the initial Alternian bombardments, but some places had managed to get systems up and running again. Whatever the case may be, it was probably nowhere near as extravagant as this borderline-spa day.

As the Commander let Dave try to handle washing himself, Eridan grabbed the brush he had acquired from the closet. He began to brush Dave's hair around, initially brushing it back in a style similar to his own hair. Then a part to the right. To the left. Fuck it, he'll just let Dave figure it out. But nobody could say Eridan didn't try.

Dave takes the bottle and stares at it for a moment. What would happen if he drinks this? Is shampoo poisonous? Well, _anything_ is poisonous if you drink enough of it. What's the level of shampoo-to-body ratio that needs to happen for him to get poisoned? Will it even kill him?

Of course, this is all probably like five times more weird because it's _alien_ shampoo. As he pops the cap open, he wonders how their manufacturing works. Do they have trolls that work assembly line jobs? Design shampoo scent combinations? Come up with bottle shape and design?

Fuck it's not shampoo it's body wash he's been thinking the wrong thing.

As he pours it into his hand and sets the bottle on the edge of the tub, he finds himself asking "do trolls enngage inn annimal cruelty by testinng products onn themm? Cann I call PETA onn your enntire race? Because let mme tell you PETA is annoying as fuck." He wheezes a little. "Fuckinng useless but annnoying."

"Wwell, depends on the products. Often times the higher-ups test out treatments and products on...lowwer castes, simply due to their perceivved inferiority. The lusii are primarily used to keep this massivve fuckin' wworld-ending creature satisfied through regular feedings," Eridan explained, setting the brush aside. He simply let his fingers drift through Dave's hair, resuming the massaging and scratching from earlier.

"And take a guess at wwhat I had to do growwin' up..."

It was the unfortunate reality of someone of his standing. Much like his ancestor before him, he was meant to orphan trolls and sustain Gl'bgolyb. Failing to do so would have meant mass extinction. But he didn't have to worry about that anymore. He just had to focus his attention here and now. In this case, that meant making sure this delirious human didn't try anything stupid.

"Aww." Dave does his best to clean himself up. It actually feels nice, getting his hair fussed with, his scalp scratched at. Weirdly tender, actually.

Hey. There's an idea. Maybe he can get close to this fucker, pretend to be his, and then stab him right through the heart when he's sleeping.

The idea kinda makes his skin crawl but it's... an option.

Man, trolls sound fucked, though. Wow. Like India on steroids. _Lower castes?_ Christ. And the Commander would lecture _humans_ on their shit society.

"Those poor annimals." He muses. Okay, yeah, he feels bad for the trolls shoved at the bottom of the society, he's sure not _all_ of them are terrible, but- genocidal invading maniacs. "Truly, they deserved a better life."

"Oh, _please_. Are you tellin' me you'vve nevver eaten any meat in your life? Evver?" Eridan asked, continuing to mess around with Dave's hair. "If the answwer is yes, don't think you'vve got room to talk. I killed lusii to feed to a creature or else our entire race wwould collapse. You humans kill an' eat animals because they taste good."

Sure, trolls themselves weren't exactly herbivores either. But that wasn't the point. Eridan simply saw Dave's sympathy for the lusii as a bit hypocritical. Hell, Eridan had seen some of the living conditions for animals on his various expeditions down on Earth's surface. Meatpacking plants, crowded farms, cramped zoos and aquariums...Humans weren't exactly the leading experts on animal rights.

"Howw're things going wwith the body wwash?"

Dave wheezes a little laugh. "Welcomme to hummannity." He slurs. "Big ol bunnch of hypocrites." He snorts. "Was mmostly beinn-" he pauses. "hyperbolic? Nno. Uh."

He stares off, trying to find the word. Shakes his head. "Whatever. Good onn you for keepinng your people fromm collapsinng." He's not actually being snarky right now. He's actually kind of jealous.

_ Wish I could've done that. _

He rolls his head back to look up at the Commander and gives a little grin. "Got as mmuch as I could."

"Just doin' my job," Eridan sighed, dwelling on that concept.

There was something nagging at him, making him think about what could have been if he hadn't followed some sort of preset path. Maybe a career in literature...or analysis...or being a historian or a scholar or—

He pushed the thoughts aside. Dwelling on 'what could have been' would get him nowhere. All he could do now was to excel at his current career. Something told him meticulously spending too much time on an intimate bathing process wasn't necessarily excelling at commanding this fleet, but Eridan managed to rationalize it. He was just breaking a potentially valuable asset, that was all. Dave was a skilled fighter, that much was obvious. Perhaps, after enough conditioning, he could be an asset for the Alternian imperial forces.

"Here, you figure it out," Eridan broke through his thoughts, handing Dave the hairbrush.

There's a note of something in the Commander's voice that twinges strangely. Longing, perhaps, or maybe wistfulness. Like he wanted to do something else, but didn't have any choice.

Dave would feel a flicker of... pity, maybe, or perhaps compassion, but this is the bastard that destroyed and killed so much of Earth. And his-

Ha.

Don't think about it.

(Dave is lying, the fucking bleeding heart that he is, but the fact that he _does_ feel a momentary flicker of empathy pisses him off more than literally anything else. He fucking _hates_ this alien, he hates him with such a disgusting, burning fury that it feels like it's choking him in his chest. But- he can't show it right now. Not like this.)

Dave blinks, though, as the Commander hands him the brush. "I- alright." He drops the brush on the side and just slicks all his hair back. "There."

Well, that wasn't what he was expecting, but whatever. Less hassle to deal with. Eridan picked the brush up, gathering all of the other toiletries in his arms.

"Stay still, should be here any minute noww."

Eridan didn't elaborate further, instead opting to silently return the toiletries to the closet before walking over to the sink. He idly trimmed at his beard, cleaning up some stray hairs that stood out from the well-groomed crop of dark facial hair. It was the Dualscar genes at work. Besides, it made Eridan look older. Older, more authoritative, and more intimidating. As he groomed his beard, there was a knocking at the bathroom door.

Eridan gathered up the pile of clothes he had set aside, opening the door to greet one of the many launderers aboard his vessel. He swapped his pile of clothes for two sets of violet silk pajamas, quickly dismissing the launderer. The bathroom door was promptly shut, and the door was once again locked.

"Don't get too comfortable. Seamstress wwill be making some pajamas more suitable for a captivve like you. For noww, you can wwear some of my more wworn-out pajamas," Eridan explained, setting the clothes aside. "Noww, I believve it's my turn to wwash off tonight. Are you able to get outta the tub?"

The Commander pulls away and goes to tuck things back into his cabinets and Dave just shifts in the tub to flip over onto his belly, folding his arms on the edge and watching the Commander.

No one's ever been... this close before, Dave thinks idly. To the Commander. At least, no one who's lived to tell the tale. He studies the Commander quietly while the wait for... whatever it is to happen.

Dave doesn't know how to estimate age for these aliens, but if he had to guess, the Commander is probably... somewhere in his 30s. He's certainly a handsome man, especially with the scars that Bro ( _dontthinkaboutit_ ) gave him. A neatly trimmed beard gives his face a severe, sharp look, but even without it Dave is pretty sure the Commander would be attractive as hell, which is _so_ not fair. Like what the shit. The universe could at least be kind enough to make the alien invaders _ugly_ but nooooo. Here he is. Hot McHotterson.

Pajamas are delivered and then Dave considers the question.

"Probably?" He guesses, and makes an attempt at pushing himself up and out. He makes it about four seconds of effort before his arms literally give out on him and he gives a shocked yelp as he collapses and slips under the surface of the water.

Fucking hell, Eridan was not in the mood to play bathtub lifeguard. Nonetheless, he hurriedly stripped his underwear off, setting them aside with the fresh set of clothing. He leaned over the edge of the tub, pulling Dave up by his arms until he was sitting up straight in the tub. And there goes that quickly slicked-back hair...

"Just...fuckin'...just stick to one side a' the tub, I suppose," Eridan sighed, frustrated with this development.


	2. Chapter 2

Eridan walked over to the cabinets at the sink, returning to the tub with his _personal_ toiletries. Lining them up on the edge of the tub, he approached the side of the tub opposite Dave. _There is absolutely nothing unusual about this,_ Eridan attempted to rationalize to his mind as he lowered himself into the warm water, a relaxed sigh escaping his lips.

And here they were. The Commander and his captive. Just a few feet apart. Eridan attempted to make nothing of it as he dipped his head underwater, wetting his hair. While he had a number of sexual experiences with conquered peoples under his belt, something about this felt more...personal? Intimate? But it wasn't. It was just Eridan's needy brain trying to find something that wasn't there. This was a captive who had tried to kill Eridan on numerous occasions. Granted, Eridan had also done the same.

Dave is hauled back up above the water and coughs weakly. "Guess nnot." He slurs up at Commander. He slumps against the edge, reaching up a trembling hand and re-slicking his hair back. He feels about one more concentrated effort away from passing right the fuck out and yeah wow he would really like to avoid being unconcious in this dude's presence, so he just drapes one arm on the edge and rests his head on it, watching the Commander sink into the tub with a bleary expression.

It rankles at Dave, that the Commander just... doesn't seem to care about Dave's presence, but it's whatever. The more he lowers his guard, the easier it will be to catch him off guard and kill him.

So Dave just rests his head on his arm and watches the Commander with a quiet exhaustion.

Eridan makes quick work of his hair; lather with shampoo, rinse, apply conditioner, rinse. All the while, his eyes are trained forward, staring into those deep, bright red irises. So perfectly unique. The beard is his next area of focus, applying a beard and face wash to the scruff. A facial scrub ensued as part of his Patrick Bateman-esque preening routine, followed up by scrubbing his body with soap. Then a deep pore cleanser. And this was him really rushing things.

Following the meticulously maintained routine, Eridan helps himself out of the tub, beginning to drain the water.

"Hold still, don't try movving. You knoww the drill."

Eridan grabbed one of the soft towels, drying off before changing into a pair of clean underwear and silk pajamas. Finally, he brushed his hair back into place, taking one final look at himself in the mirror. Now time to deal with the other guy. The tub was now empty, with the exception of one delirious human and some drops of water here and there. Eridan handed Dave the other towel, sitting on the edge of the tub with the spare pajamas and underwear in his lap.

"Just dry yourself off as much as possible like this. Then try gettin' changed yourself."

Dave watches the Commander go through his routine and...

...

wow. That's so fucking much. Dave feels even more tired just _watching_ him, how the fuck can this guy even keep the _effort_ of all those different things? Dave's pissed off just watching.

He stays in the tub, though, as the Commander pulls the plug. He's going to enjoy this water as much as fucking possible before it's gone.

He takes the towel and starts rubbing himself down as much as possible, toweling his hair dry and then slicking it back again.

Yeah, he's not getting changed in the tub. That sounds really fucking annoying.

Dave drapes the towel around his neck and takes a deep breath, pulling himself back together. He feels everything steady and smooth out as he breathes out, and as he hauls himself up onto the edge of the tub his arms only tremble the slightest bit.

Thank you, breath control.

Dave towels himself off a bit more and swings his legs around over the edge of the tub, setting his feet on the floor (which, by the way, they still feel like jelly so- ha. Lovely.)

"Cool." He says, taking the pajamas. "Celebration time for no longer being a _complete_ invalid." Oh, fuck yes, his slurring is finally fucking gone again. He slants a sideways glance at the Commander as he tugs on his pants. "I wonder who's fault _that_ was." He drawls, giving the Commander a grin and a tilted head.

Dave's struggle to get up and get dressed, such simple tasks, instilled a sense of _pride_ in Eridan. It hadn't even been a night, and Eridan was already making quick work with this human. To Eridan, it seemed more like a matter of when Dave would break rather than a matter of if.

At the same time, Dave was clearly feeling better and getting back to normal. Eridan couldn't have that, not as long as it presented a threat to him. He picked up the discarded shock collar and handcuffs, quickly affixing them to the still-weakened Dave with relative ease. This time, however, Eridan cuffed Dave's hands in front of his body rather than behind his back.

Now this was a sight to see. Dave was dolled up in Eridan's pajamas, face soft and still slightly damp from his recent bath. His shades were missing from his face, allowing those eyes to be on full display. The shock collar was beautiful around his neck, especially with Eridan knowing just how many volts he could pump through Dave's body with him being able to take it all. And Dave could do nothing about it with his wrists bound by those handcuffs, practically helpless to his new...master, essentially. Oh, this would be fun.

"So. Are you gonna followw me or do you need to be jolted before I lug you ovver my shoulder once more?" Eridan asked, crossing his arms as he stared Dave down.

The Commander snaps the collar back on and Dave makes a cursory attempt at leaning away with a _'for fucks sake, really?'_ expression on his face, and then yeup, his wrists are cuffed again.

"Really." He sighs. "And here I thought we were having a _moment_." He flutters his lashes at the Commander. "You know, me, the captive, reaching for your morality, you, the dangerous villain showing your tragic backstory for the viewers and making you more sympathetic- classic Hollywood stuff."

He makes an attempt at standing, and his legs, though shaky, hold him up.

"I might be the first person holdin' you captivve like this, but you're far from my first prisoner," Eridan replied, circling around to stand behind Dave. "I knoww the 'fake interest an' sympathy to get me vvulnerable' angle. A rather crafty specimen from another alien race actually managed to crack through after a wwhile. She then tried pouring my cologne right into my gills in an attempt to poison me. You'll havve to try harder than an hour or twwo of mock caring."

Speaking of classic Hollywood stuff, Eridan managed to land that scene perfectly. It was a tale he came up with a while back, one that seemed to be quite effective at getting people to stop their attempts at emotionally manipulating Eridan. Something about Dave, however, told Eridan this would be a different set of circumstances. Nonetheless, Eridan prodded Dave forward from behind, walking him out of the bathroom and back into his bedroom.

With Dave still shakily supporting himself, it was easy for Eridan to shove him onto the bed, staring at him intently.

Dave snorts a little at Eridan's explanation, and blatantly refuses to acknowledge to himself that it wasn't _all_ fake. " _Cologne_?" He asks. "I'll give her points for creativity, that's for sure." He runs an assessing gaze over the room. "Bit sloppy, though." He muses. "Like- even if it _worked_ , poisoning takes _time_ , what, did she just expect you to stay asleep as you die, which- I doubt it would poison you, something tells me your race is a bit too...."

He looks back over his shoulder to meet the Commander's gaze with a lazy grin. "...cockroach-y."

He snickers as he's shoved down onto the bed, wiggling to flip over onto his back, but fear jolts into his gut at the expression on the Commander's face.

 _Hungry_.

Fuck. Here comes the rape, right? Dave can read a room.

"I can see about a dozen or so _much_ better methods of killing a bastard like you in his sleep." Dave drawls, trying to chill the uptick in his heartbeat.

The sharp teeth, fins, and gills weren't the only shark-like features on the seadweller. His eyes stared into Dave's as if he had just picked up the scent of blood in the waters, going in for the kill.

"Like suffocation, I suppose? Right into a pillow? I wwould agree," Eridan replies, climbing onto the bed.

Eridan flips Dave over onto his stomach, roughly handling him as he pushes and pulls Dave around in bed. He presses Dave's face down into a pillow, muffling any noise of concern or equally annoying snarky quip in response. With Dave's hands underneath his chest and stomach, pinned against the sheets by his own weight, Eridan removes his hand from Dave's head, placing his hands on his captive's pajama-clad ass.

Slowly, the pajama bottoms are worked down, along with the underlying underwear, pulled down to the midsection of Dave's thighs to reveal Dave's bare ass once more. While he had gotten some good looks at it before, Eridan now gets an outright _stare_ at it, digging his fingers into the soft flesh as he roughly gropes it.

_Fuck_ , that expression sends a nervous little zap down Dave's spine as he stalks forwards. The Commander flips him and Dave lets out a grunt as his face is shoved into a pillow.

Yeah. Fucking figures. Dave's life can't ever be _fucking easy_. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment as a burning hatred _tears_ through him, his pants tugged down and a hand _grabbing his ass._

Yeah, enjoy it buddy. Dave knows his ass is fucking amazing. He's more than a little pinned by the Commander's weight, so all he can do is grit his teeth and stay down for the moment.

Eridan is tempted to go grab some equipment to truly work Dave out, but he's been adequately built up for this moment following the intimate bath they shared. Spreading Dave's ass open, he sees Dave's tight hole, practically waiting in anticipation. The absolute _writhe_ of his bulge in his pants answers for Eridan. The toys and equipment can wait for another time.

Eridan reaches over to the nightstand, opening the draw to grab the bottle of lube. He drizzles a small amount onto his index and middle fingers, pressing them against Dave's hole. The pads of his fingers press and prod against Dave's entrance, never pushing in as he applies the lube, teasingly moving his fingers in circles as his bulge tents his pajamas in approval.

"You're gonna wwant to bite that pilloww real soon," Eridan warned, pulling his fingers back.

Dave balls his hands into fists underneath him. The touch _does_ feel good, but any pleasure is vastly outstripped by the revulsion curling through him. He's fucking helpless, he's goddamn weak and pathetic and this fish bastard is going to do whatever he wants.

"Fuck you." He spits, hatred bubbling in his veins. "What, you think a little bit of rape is going to break me? You'll have another thing coming if you th-"

He chokes on his words as his ass is suddenly a lot fuller than it was a second ago.

Holy _shit_ , Eridan has to hold back a moan as he bucks his hips forward, shoving his bulge into Dave's tight ass. Dave is so perfectly tight around his bulge, thanks in part to a lack of stretching before intercourse. The sensation nearly brought a noise of pleasure from Eridan, but Eridan can't let that boost Dave's ego, now can he?

His hands move to grip Dave's waist as he continues to push more of his bulge into Dave, closing his eyes as he attempted to maintain his self-control. After a few more moments and some slow-yet-firm pushing of his hips, Eridan buries his bulge deep within Dave's warm body. A hand leaves Dave's waist to reach up for Dave's head, readjusting to shove his face back into the pillow.

And then, with a slow draw back and a rough snap forward, Eridan begins to set a steady pace of thrusts.

Dave can't fucking breathe around the aching fullness of his hole, his eyes squeezing closed. Fuck. _Fuck_ it- it doesn't quite _hurt_ , slick and tapered as it is, but it's stretching him open to the brim and-

and fu _uuuuckkk_ the absolute bastard is stuffing _more_ into him, making him go weak and shivery and sweat breaking out across his spine as it keeps getting _bigger_ , and now it's aching terribly, pressing him open to the point of _too much_ , forcing his breath to be shallow in that terribly weak sensation of taking too much too fast-

The Commander shoves his face harder into the pillows and Dave has to bite a whine back. He won't give this bastard aNYTH-

A choked noise is forced from his throat as the Commander starts thrusting, and the relentless way his fucking alien dick lets his hole close up a bit and then _fucks_ it right open and wide again is- it's- it's _disgustingly good_ and Dave hates how fucking good it feels.

" _Fuck_ ," Eridan moaned, unable to hold back a noise of pleasure due to the sheer tightness of Dave. It was maddening and only enticed him to pick up the pace and effort of his thrusts.

"Still a vvirgin?" Eridan taunted, pulling Dave's head up from the pillow to hear a response. Whether that response would be a proper answer, a moan or groan, or an attempt to fight back a noise in general didn't matter. All that mattered was further degrading, humiliating, and _breaking_ Dave at his hands. His grip tightened in Dave's hair as he alternated between pushing his face into the pillow and pulling his head up to let Dave's sweet noises join the sound of their bodies slapping together.

Dave can't give any of his usual quips or snarky ramblings because the moment he opens his mouth, humiliating noises are going to escape. So he grits his teeth, breathes forcefully through his nose, and lets the Commander shove him around like a fuckdoll.

He's going to kill him. Dave is going to put those dozen methods to use and kill him with _every single one of them._ He's going to rip him apart, for doing this to Dave, doing this to Earth, doing this to Bro-

don't think about it don't think about it.

He refuses to give the Commander any satisfaction at all. His head is yanked up and he breathes in sharp from the pull, but he locks his teeth and breathes and breathes and breathes and just doesn't make a sound.

Well, if Dave isn't going to play along, then Eridan opts to simply up his game and try harder. He lets go of Dave's head, moving his hands down to Dave's hips. Slowly, he pulls his bulge out, giving Dave a very temporary reprieve from his thrusts.

Instead, Eridan positions his bulge between Dave's cheeks, letting the warm flesh envelop his bulge. Digging his fingers into Dave's waist, he began to thrust himself once more, now letting his bulge writhe against Dave's rear. With every push forward, his slick appendage prodded and ground against Dave's tight entrance, as if a teasing warning. Eridan pulled back enough to take his bulge in his hand, slapping it and rubbing it against Dave's soft ass.

"Thought you wwere supposed to be the best a' the best dowwn there," Eridan said, his voice dripping with mock disappointment. "But you're just...so fuckin' wweak an' _pathetic_ right noww."

Without further warning, he spread Dave's cheeks once more, and roughly pushed himself back into his hole.

The Commander pulls back and Dave doesn't say anything, because like _i_ is it over, and yeah, there comes the slick rocking against his ass. It presses and teases against his hole and fuck, Dave can't lie- it feels _good_. He fucking hates how good it feels, fucking hates that he has to lock fucking _moans_ behind his teeth.

If he does any less, Dave is certain that Bro will show up and just fucking gut him himself.

Ha. He wishes.

The Commander slams back home and Dave sucks in a breath at the sudden, _pleasurable_ stretch again. Once he's sure his voice won't shake, he finally drawls, "sorry to disappoint- I don't moan for disappointing lays."

Not only had Dave been able to muster up enough strength to speak a coherent thought, he mustered up enough courage to make it so utterly _disrespectful_ to the Commander. That wouldn't go without proper punishment.

Eridan abruptly hilted himself inside Dave, ceasing movement. He reached up with a hand to slap at Dave's face, before going back to pushing his face into the pillow. His other hand reaches around to trail his slender fingers along Dave's cock, before swatting at it. He trailed down to Dave's balls, firmly groping them before giving them a pair of slaps. After a few more slaps were scattered over his twitching dick and aching balls, Eridan pulled his hands back, return them to rest on Dave's hips. And with that, the thrusting resumed.

There were many advantages to studying material from Earth. Military tactics, political history, and propaganda techniques lent themselves handy for mass operations against humans. However, a study of anatomy and biology offered more...intimate options for conquering and subjugating. Where to stab to inflict significant pain without killing, how to maximize suffering in isolation, and other incredibly brutal aspects of human anatomy were in Eridan's new wheelhouse of human studies. And as Eridan picked up his rough pace of thrusts, he was intent on ramming his bulge deep enough to stimulate Dave's prostate.

The Commander gives him a slap across the face, which stings, but that was expected so Dave just huffs a laugh but then-

Oh, for fucks sake, really- Dave jerks as his dick is smacked, fucking ow, holy shit, and yet the throb radiates through him, right to his core, then- oh fucking-

The smacks to his balls make him _jerk_ , unable to lock the reflexive, hitching groan completely behind his teeth- fucking _bastard_ that hurts, his cock is fucking throbbing hot, embarrassingly hard, and Dave hates that his face is going red from the feeling of it, the feeling of being _dominated_.

The Commander resumes his thrusting, but this time- he _slams_ across Dave's prostate with every thrust and Dave _jolts_ as hot, molten pleasure pours itself into his veins, a startled, unrestrained, yelping moan ripping itself from his mouth.

"There wwe go, that's a good boy," Eridan says, letting out a low seablood chitter as his fins flutter in sheer pleasure.

Eridan could listen to that noise over and over again, only providing him further incentive to keep up his effort, hammering away at Dave. His fingers dig into Dave's hips, so soft, practically designed to be held like this. However, he could always improve his form...

No explanation is given when Eridan pulls out, shifting behind Dave on the bed. He works himself off of the bed, before manhandling his captive into a new position. Eridan bends Dave over at the waist, letting his legs dangle down from the bed as he remained face-down in the sheets. The Commander stands straight now, feet planted on the floor of his bedroom as he spreads Dave open once more, before slowly, teasingly pushing the tip of his bulge back into Dave. After he feels Dave's tight walls clenching around the first inch, he bucks himself forward with a small grunt of effort. Now, with more control over his movements while standing up on the ground rather than kneeling in bed, he's able to speed up his rhythm, driving deeper and harder with each thrust.

Dave's face is hot with embarrassment from the noise, shame and hatred curling in his gut as the Commander fucking _praises_ him like he's a fucking dog.

Hating even more that the praise feels _good_.

The Commander pulls back and Dave doesn't allow himself to relax and- yeah, he's getting yanked around, his legs are pulled off the bed and fuck here's the bastard's bulge again, slipping back inside, the tapered tip just _wiggling_ inside like a bad fucking hentai.

The Commander waits there for a moment and Dave wonders if he's expecting Dave to _beg_ for hi-

"-hnGK-" Dave chokes as the Commander _slams_ home, a rough, guttural noise forced from him, and the bastard uses the new angle to fuck Dave rough and deep, relentlessly slamming _that spot_ inside of Dave with every thrust, because of _course_ he would.

Dave is so fucking hard he _aches_ , his breathing ragged, his eyes screwed shut as he pants, mouth hanging open now, deep, weak moans fucked from him with every thrust. It fucking _burns_ , it digs at him and claws and a voice that sounds quite a lot like Bro's rings in his ears, _'Just going to submit so fucking easily, huh Davey? That's pathetic.'_

The sight is too good. This slippery bastard who had avoided Eridan for years, who had thwarted so many offensives on the ground, who had killed so many of his men, who had helped that older brother of his scar Eridan's face, who had taken so much from him...now bent over, wrapped up in _his_ pajamas in _his_ bed. It was a picture-perfect image fit for the most depraved, most unforgiving of the troll-on-human pornography rapidly emerging in Alternian society.

And it wasn't just the sight. Eridan's ears are filled with the beautiful sound of Dave's choked, strangled pants for oxygen, his pathetic moans of pleasure while he's assaulted. The noises are only complemented by the rapid **slap, slap, slap** of Eridan's hips slamming into Dave's ass as he thrusts away. His sense of touch is also out of this world, his fingers digging into Dave's soft skin as Dave's walls grip so perfectly tight around his bulge. The sensory overload, compounded by having not pailed in far too long, was quickly becoming too much for Eridan.

Eridan feels it first in his abdomen, a tightening sensation that indicated his climax was approaching. But he has something to take care of before he could let that play out.

A hand leaves Dave's hips, being brought up to Eridan's mouth. He spits into it, before reaching around to wrap his fingers around Dave's cock in an iron grip. Eridan quickly begins to stroke it in time with his brutal thrusts, pounding into Dave and jerking his cock off in an unrelenting fashion.

It's so fucking much, it's too much- getting fucked and _humiliated_ into the bed of the _bastard_ who decimated humanity, finally caught and trapped by the fucking Commander he had spent so long outsmarting, out _tricking_ \- and now he's getting fucked like a goddamn whore.

Dave hates how fucking good it feels, hates the fact that with every thrust in his breath is forced from him, hates that with every thrust his body gets hotter and hotter, sweat gathering in the divots of his spine, his shoulders aching from his arms being trapped.

And then the fucking _bastard_ , the absolute piece of shit is reaching down and _grabbing Dave's cock_ and Dave chokes as a _terrible_ moan is torn from his mouth, panting, pressing his forehead to the bed, his shoulders flexing as he tugs helplessly on the cuffs.

"F-ffffuck-" he gasps, he can't- he _wont_ \- he wont, he wont, this bastard won't make him-

Dave jerks as he cums, a strangled whine in his throat.

Eridan's hand points Dave's cock downward, aiming it to the floor as he continues to stroke Dave off, letting the pearly ropes of his load shoot onto the elegant hardwood floor of Eridan's master bedroom. Nothing a little elbow grease from the cleaning crew couldn't wipe up the next day, and it beat getting the sheets ruined so soon. That could come later.

As Dave's climax shakes his body, Eridan can feel Dave's already tight ass clench even tighter, even firmer around his bulge, as if his natural, animalistic response was to milk the bulge ramming at his prostate. And who was Eridan to deny nature? The Commander buries his entire length as deep into Dave as he can, hammering in with a brutal finish. He can't help but toss his head back in pleasure, giving a deep, guttural seadweller noise that reverberated through his chest.

Thick rope after thick rope of his genetic material is pumped deep into Dave, painting his insides violet with the load of months of pent-up sexual frustration and energy. His cool seed pools inside Dave, as Eridan deposits every last drop of his load inside Dave. Even after his bulge finishes its twitching, even after Eridan's climax rides through him, he remains hilted inside Dave. Instead of pulling out, Eridan pushes himself and Dave back into bed, arranging them under the sheets in this same position.

It's a perverse, twisted spooning. Dave's hands are bound in front of his body by handcuffs, his pants and boxers are tugged to his thighs, and Eridan's bulge still lay inside of him. Yet, as Eridan presses his chest against Dave's back, he places a kiss to the back of Dave's neck.

"Noww get some good rest. If you try movving to escape or to kill me, I'll _feel_ it, Davve," Eridan warns, whispering the words against Dave's neck.

Dave shudders as he cums, eyes squeezed shut and _burning_ with humiliation, which is only made worse by the Commander slamming home in a painfully hard thrust and cumming himself.

The _noise_ that he makes- it feels like it vibrates right into Dave's bones, taking some strange, siren call hold and hooking into him, making him tremble.

The fluid that _pours_ into him is- it's fucking _insane_ , it's so much, cool and wet and Dave swears he can feel his gut expanding, panting as a chill sweeps through him, strange and wrong and much too _full_.

Dave waits as the alien dick slowly settles inside of him, his ass aching from being fucked so hard, but the Commander _doesn't fucking pull out_ , instead pushing Dave up onto the bed and curling around him, leaving him stuffed full and plugged up.

He squeezes his eyes shut. Like this, it almost feels like he could be back on Earth, with some lover, except for the fact that he has a belly full of cool alien cum and an ass full of alien dick and oh yeah, his wrists are _still in cuffs_ and he's got a goddamn _shock collar_ on.

Okay, maybe he couldn't pretend.

The kiss is unexpected and the softness of the touch makes Dave flinch. He can deal with brutality, with rape and pain, but- this feels too much. Just a tiny little press of the mouth and his chest is going tight in a painful, terrible way.

He almost doesn't hear the threat that comes from Eridan's mouth, but he gives a short little nod to indicate he understands.

Christ. What a humiliation. Forced to cockwarm for the alien who leads the fucking campaign of destruction against humanity.

Dave hates the ache of humiliation, hates how it makes him feel, but hates even more that he _likes_ it. Fuck. He squeezes his eyes shut and breathes slowly, trying not to move.

Once the Commander's asleep, Dave is _absolutely_ going to try and stab this bastard.

Oh, the day was absolutely perfect. A tremendous first day with his newest prisoner. The asshole who had scarred his face is dead, dealing both a strategic and moral blow to whatever holdout scourge are still bumbling around on Earth. Said asshole's little brother, an equally annoying pest, is taking the conditioning well so far. And Eridan feels something _different_ about this one, a potential that his other captives did not possess. Things were looking positively chipper for the seadwelling Alternian.

"Swweet dreams."

Eridan carefully reaches up to his own face, taking off his glasses and setting them on the nightstand. His face promptly returns to the back of Dave's head, planting another soft kiss in his blond hair, inhaling the scent of Dave's hair and the salty scent of Alternian seas from various hair products. It helps him drift off to sleep, his breathing slowing as he drifts off, inhaling Dave's scent and feeling his body against his.

It isn't long before he's in a deep slumber. His muscles relax against Dave's body, his breathing against Dave's neck slows down, and his body is still.

_Fuck_ ** _off_** _, fuck off, don't fucking kiss me again,_ Dave thinks, successfully holding back his flinch this time and ignoring the tightness in his chest.

Dave breathes slowly, but with the Commander no longer talking, no longer doing anything but curled against him with- eugh- with his dick shoved into Dave (disgusting), he can feel his mind starting to clear, his awareness slowly leeching back in.

God. He fucking hurts. He feels a _mess_. Stuffed full of alien cum, shocked to hell and back, shoulders aching, head aching- at the very least he's _clean_ (....mostly).

He keeps his breathing slow and deep, waiting for the Commander to do the same, his breathing gradually relaxing into sleep.

Dave very slowly, starts counting to five hundred.

His gaze flicks across the room. There's a lamp, he could strangle the Commander with the cord? No, he can't see the plugin, maybe they don't even have plugs. He's got a... _weirdly_ high number of magic themed statues, holy shit. They look like they would fit right in at like a fucking.... gardening store. Also a disgusting amount of jewelry scattered about.

His gaze falls on a looping necklace of gold, dangling precariously out of the half-open nightstand drawer.

That'll do.

Dave shifts experimentally, just a slide of his legs, keeping his breathing deep. Like he's just adjusting in his sleep.

Nothing.

Alright.

Dave counts to one hundred again. And then one more time for good measure.

Very carefully, he shifts again. Brings his hands up to curl next to his face. Waits.

There's probably four feet between him and the chain. His gaze is fixed on it.

Counts to one hundred again. Shifts the tiniest bit to start pulling away from the Commander. He can probably lunge the difference, but he needs just a _little_ more reach to be sure.

He shifts, an inch or two of the Commander's dick sliding out. He stops.

Counts to one hundred. It's agonizing. Four feet.

He shifts. Another couple of inches. The Commander stays asleep.

Three feet. Dave can make it. He breathes deep and slow and counts to one hundred.

Shifts again. The bastard's bulge is more than half out. Dave's reaching across the bed. He can make it. He can grab the chain with another shift or two-

Stop. Don't get impatient. _Breathe_.

One hundred.

Shift.

His bulge is barely inside. Dave's fingers are inches away from the chain.

He strains.

His fingers brush the chain.

For the first time in weeks, there isn't a nightmare plaguing Eridan in his sleep. No vision where he's laying on his back, stabbed through with a sword. No vision where he's drawn and quartered by a contingent of human rebels. No vision where a threshecutioner culls him for his failures. No vision where he suffers. Instead, his slumber is characterized by something completely out of left field.

There he is, in a hand-crafted schooner on Alternia. He's on the deck of the ship, glancing over the calm waves as the salty, wet air hits his face. His first mate is checking the masts, before approaching him. It's...a human. He's blond, and he's...he's got a smile on his face as he runs a hand over Eridan's smooth, perfect face. It's—

 **Dave**.

Eridan's eyes open as he senses something, his seadweller eyes easily glancing through the dark room to see his captive, slowly trying to work himself free. He makes quick work of wrapping a hand around his neck, the other planting itself on Dave's hips. Dave is rolled over, pinned against the bed underneath Eridan.

"Wwwwhat the fuck are you plannin', you fuckin' vvvvermin?" Eridan asks, his accent bleeding through stronger than before as fury swells in his chest.

He can grab it, he can-

The Commander _shifts_ and _yanks_ and Dave gasps, "no-" feeling fear plunge into his veins, sending ice racing through him, chilling him to the bone. He's dragged on the bed, the necklace swaying slightly, _mockingly_ , as a hand clamps over the beck of his neck and he's pinned down under the Commander's weight.

He wheezes for a moment.

"Sleep a-accessor-rizing?" He gasps, shooting for a joke, but knowing that he is so fucking _fucked_. "Gold is _so_ \- in this- season."

Dave's joke falls flat, but it does, however, give Eridan quite the idea to further toy with Dave.

"It is, isn't it? Much better than this gaudy fuckin' clunky trash, huh?" Eridan asks, fingers tracing down Dave's neck to the shock collar.

Eridan reaches to the nightstand table on his side of the bed, throwing open the drawer to find a spare key to the shock collar. The original key was too far away, and it would require abandoning his prisoner to obtain. That wouldn't be tolerated, especially after this attempted escape. Instead, Eridan settled for the spare, unlocking and removing the shock collar to set aside. Dave's neck is free once more, and Eridan's fingers trace over the soft skin in a moment of relief.

The moment is short-lived, as Eridan stretches over to grab the dangling necklace, placing it around Dave's neck.

"Howw do you like your neww sleep accessory?" Eridan asks, pulling back tightly to choke Dave with the necklace. At the same time, he bucks his hips forward, driving his bulge back inside Dave's wet, full ass.

Dave wheezes a nervous laugh as the Commander touches the shock collar, but then he's unlocking it and tossing it away and a pit opens up in Dave's stomach as the soft skin is brushed over.

 _Oh, fuck me_ He thinks, moments before the Commander wraps the chain around his neck and _pulls_ , slamming home into Dave's ass.

His eyes roll back as his head is pulled up and back, the thrust making him spasm from how- how _stupid good_ it feels, the cold chain cutting into his neck.

Eridan presses a hand into Dave's back, holding his body against the bed while his other hand pulls Dave's head up by the golden chains wrapped around his neck. The entirety of his bulge is pressed back into Dave's warmth, the Commander bottoming out in Dave's ass, so warm from his body heat yet so cool from his earlier round's load.

"I wwanna hear those fuckin' moans again."

His grip on the necklace tightens further, ensuring the chain is digging into Dave's skin while also attempting to avoid complete strangulation. After all, that would mean missing out on those moans that were positively pornographic in nature, pure music to Eridan's ears.

At the same time, Eridan's hips snap up and down, fucking Dave into his sheets without mercy. This human thought he could escape. _No_ , worse, this human thought he could overpower Eridan, choke out Eridan, and kill Eridan. Eridan would have no mercy in return, driving deeper into Dave's body and feeling his genetic material slosh around his bulge with every thrust.

Dave gurgles as the chain pulls tighter. He can _breathe_ \- but only barely, just enough for him not to pass out, and his eyes are rolling back.

The Commander starts fucking into him _ruthlessly_ , each thrust sending the cum inside of him jostling and pressing him into the bed. His brain is going foggy from the missing oxygen, pain around his neck as the necklace bites into his skin, so he can't control himself enough to control his voice.

"MMmngg- manha- ahhh- hhaaa- ha- haaa- ha _aa_ -" Desperate moans and whines sliding from his mouth, fucked out of him with every forceful thrust, his ass forced open over and over again, his hands trapped helplessly as he writhes and fights for more air, his head pounding.

"There it is, there you go," Eridan grunted in response to Dave's moans, the once-silent bedroom now filled with a symphony of Dave's moans and whines, the sound of their bodies slapping together, and Eridan's raw, animalistic seadweller chitters and growls.

The violet material filling Dave up acts as a sort of lubricant, coating itself over Eridan's bulge with every thrust forward. It only helps him speed up his pace compared to their first round, allowing easier access deeper into Dave at a quicker rhythm. The _slap, slap, slap_ ping of earlier is now a rapid, sustained _slapslapslapslap_ ping, a development that results in Eridan being much more vocal than earlier. His fins flutter in pleasure as he can feel the tension building up once more. He leans forward and pulls the necklace back further, practically growling into Dave's ear.

"You wwanted this, huh? You coulda just fallen asleep, but you kneww movvin' wwould wwake me up, wwould get me riled up. You wwanted to get fucked like the needy fuckin' wwhore you are, isn't that right?"

The Commander's fucking him _hard_ and _good_ and _deep_ and Dave can't fucking think, his head is pounding, his voice is breaking apart into breathless vocal static, tiny breathy noises, "h--h- -hh-- aa--h-" eyes rolling back.

Did he want it? Did he want to get fucked again? _Is_ he a needy bitch?

He doesn't know, can barely remember his own name as he's fucked, brain shutting down from not being able to breathe, but he doesn't have to _think_ , he just is a wet, full sleeve to be fucked, fucked open, filled up like the _slut_ that he apparently is-

His eyes are fluttering shut. Sensation is slipping away, mouth hanging open helplessly, desperation wracking through his body, magnified and _so fucking good_ from the hard, inhumanly fast thrusts slamming in and pounding him open, abusing and raping his poor body open but it feels so good, it feels _so good_ , shouldn't his body be rejecting it, if he doesn't want it? Shouldn't it hurt, why does it feel so good?

Does it matter?

Dave's lungs _burn_.

Eridan keeps up the pressure, hearing Dave's breathing became shallow, rapid, _desperate_ for oxygen. He can feel him so close to giving out, so close to passing out and becoming the perfect toy. Not that Eridan could make great use out of the toy. While his physical stamina was second to none, the sheer pleasure of this experience quickly pushed him over the edge.

With a final, brutal slam forward, he bottomed out inside Dave once more, his bulge twitching as he came once more. A fresh slurry of his genetic material joined the old batch, using Dave like a cheap bucket. _Fuck_ , he was practically using Dave like the Mother Grub like this, load after load oozing so deep into Dave's warm body, quickly pooling up inside of him, so deep in his frail human body.

All the while, his grip only tightens on the necklace, strangling Dave with an intense devotion. As Eridan is letting his climax ride through his body, another low, deep seadweller mating noise is emitted, shaking through Eridan and his captive. Eridan watches with pleasure as Dave's head drops forward, unconscious, the last sounds he likely heard before passing out being the aggressive, dominating call of a seadweller.

His body isn't obeying him anymore. He can't even twitch. His vision is greying out, going black, his head pounding.

Can't even think.

He can only _feel_ , and it feels _good_. His body is just a basin for pleasure to be poured into and taken out of and that's what's happening, he's being _used_ and used and used and he can't gasp, his functions shutting down.

The last thing Dave experiences before he passes out is the heavy fuck of Eridan's thrust and the fresh cum pouring into him, a cooling wave spreading out through his limbs, and the deep, guttural vibrations of Eridan's call, sinking into his bones.

Everything falls away.

In Eridan's grasp, Dave's head lolls, his expression slack, face red and entire body limp.

As Dave's head goes still, Eridan immediately releases his grasp on the necklace, not wanting his prisoner to die so easily, so early, so...weakly. Dave's head falls forward without the grip of the seadweller holding him up, his face hitting the pillow. Eridan reaches up to fumble with the necklace, tossing it into the drawer in the nightstand on _his_ side of the bed. While reaching over to his nightstand, he grabs the shock collar once more, gingerly fixing it around Dave's neck.

Eridan looks down at Dave, motionless, silent. A small press of his fingers at Dave's neck finds a pulse, so he wasn't fully out. A wave of relief washes through him, knowing his new captive would live to see another day. Even if that wasn't what Dave wanted.

A soft chitter instinctively comes out of Eridan as he readjusts them in the sheets, returning back to the spooning position he had initially tried. Now, however, there was no dangling necklace just out of Dave's reach. Now, Dave was _truly_ out for the night. Now, Eridan was much more cautious than before. Dave had seen such a small, golden sliver of hope. But he had failed at his best chance for escape. That was good enough for Eridan.

This time, Eridan didn't dignify Dave with any kisses. Dave wasn't mentally conscious to be tortured by them, and Eridan didn't want to reward such poor, improper behavior. Instead, Eridan opted to remain fully hilted inside Dave, breathing in his scent once more as he drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Dave wakes up.

This is surprising, for a couple of reasons.

Firstly, there's the wild hope that it was all a dream. That he hadn't been captured by the Commander, that his Bro hadn't been killed right in front of him (which- fucking ow  _ holy shit _ he really doesn't want to think about), that he hadn't been tortured, bathed, and then raped by the alien invader. 

That turned out to not be a dream, so that sucks.

Secondly, he has a pretty vivid memory of being choked into unconsciousness.

Oh god. And fucking  _ loving _ it. If the choking didn't kill him, maybe that humiliation would be enough to do it. 

But, regardless, with a pounding headache, a gut full of fucking  _ alien cum _ , and a throat that hurts like fucking crazy, Dave wakes up.

Eridan sleeps like a log, confident in his ability to stir should Dave try anything again, but...that never comes. Instead, Eridan's slumber is a void; no dreams, no nightmares. Well, technically he has dreams and nightmares and whatever other various dreamlike states of mental activity, but he doesn't remember anything specifically when he comes to in the morning. What he does remember is the previous day, his first dream aboard the cozy schooner on Alternia, and the late-night punishment he bestowed upon Dave.

His eyes slowly flutter open as he feels the warm body beside him shift and stir, waking up the Commander in the process. Eridan drapes a hand around Dave, pulling him back further into the spooning—and further down his bulge once more, still buried inside Dave after their hours of sleep. He leans his head forward, pressing a kiss to the back of Dave's neck.

"Mornin'," he whispers, tracing a hand up the front of Dave's chest, fingers pressing into the silk pajamas he wore. "Did you learn your lesson last night?"

Dave stirs slightly and of course, because he's a bastard, the Commander stirs too. Dave swallows thickly against the  _ ache _ in his throat, and a weak breath is punched from him as the Commander pulls him down more onto his gross alien dick.

Fuck. His belly feels so fucking swollen and bloated and his ass  _ ached _ from being stuffed full all night. And his shoulder hurts from lying on one side with his wrists bound. 

The kiss to the back of his neck makes him shudder, but the hand up his front makes him  _ grimce _ .

_ "Crystal clear." _ He croaks, voice rough and he coughs, the words painful to get out.

God dammit. This throat is bruised to hell and back, and it fucking  _ aches _ so goddamn bad. Yeah, he learned his lesson. The lesson that trying to take the Commander out while he's unconscious is a no-go.

Well, he got an answer. That was honestly more than he expected, having prepared himself to a hear a 'go fuck yourself' or a 'eat shit' or some uniquely snappy response with that insufferable wit. Honestly, Eridan was a bit...disappointed by how obedient Dave seemed to be with his response. He expected a bit more fight in him this morning. Oh well.

Eridan pushes that disappointment aside as he pulls himself out, slowly but surely withdrawing his massive bulge from Dave's thoroughly-fucked ass. He just can't help himself; he lightly slaps his writhing bulge against Dave's bare ass before pulling up his own boxers and pajamas, rolling over to lay on his back in bed. His gaze, however, remains transfixed on his captive, and Eridan watches as his two loads of genetic material ooze from Dave and onto the sheets. Yet more work for the lowblood housekeepers.

"Gonna get you cleaned up, wwe'vve got quite the day ahead a' us," Eridan mused, thinking over the rough draft to-do list floating around in his head.

The Commander pulls back and his bulge  _ finally _ leaves Dave's ass, thank  _ fuck _ . He can feel the shifting of fluid in his gut and, just to be an extra shit for  _ choking him into unconsciousness  _ last night, he rolls over onto his back and just lets it fucking soak across the Commander's bed, giving him a lazy- if slightly pained- grin.

" _ Probably _ ." He manages, then coughs again, swallowing. Fucking ow. God dammit, there goes his best fucking tool of annoyance, his voice. This is going to  _ suuuuuuuuuuck _ .

Man. His new life is going to be absolutely shitty. Then again, that's kind of like saying  _ water is wet _ , or  _ Lincoln was assassinated _ . A basic statement that everyone knows that, if said in a manner meant to be controversial, would get everyone giving you a 'what the fuck are you on about' look. 

Man what's up with him and Lincoln lately? That's two days in a row with a Lincoln reference.

Well, Eridan  _ was _ going to provide another bath to Dave to clean out all that pent-up fluid, but Dave is just letting it all flood onto his sheets, it seems. Again, not Eridan's concern, he'd let the launderers handle it. Instead, he just rolls his eyes, getting out of bed.

First things first, Eridan retrieves the switch to Dave's collar, pocketing it in his pajama pants. Just in case. Even though Eridan seemed to hammer his lesson home last night, he doubts his captive will get along that easy. He's on edge, prepared for any potential escape plans or assaults against him. Nonetheless, he gives his pocket a little pat before walking away from the bed, heading into the closet.

Eridan knows turning his back on Dave is going to cause him some troubles, so he makes it quick as he picks out a clean uniform for himself, taking it back into the bedroom proper without much time wasted. 

"I'm gonna get dressed. You can either clean up and get dressed or get dressed in your...current state, your choice. But wwe're havving breakfast before wwe go about the day, and you aren't gonna be wwearing your pajamas for that."

' _ Your _ pajamas' slips out of Eridan without much thought, but those are still  _ his own _ pajamas. He's just letting Dave wear them for now, that's all.

Dave watches the Commander for a minute before coughing again and climbing to his feet. " _ Yeah, yeah _ ." He says with a weak grin. " _ Can't have- _ " ow fuck- " _ your prisoner looking like a fucking slob, right? _ " 

He rubs at his throat. Fucking  _ christ _ . And his lower back fucking aches. Just all coming up Millhouse, huh. He stretches- can't even fucking rub at it with his hands bound.

Speaking of which-

He holds up his hands. " _ You want me to try and clean up- _ " Cough, ow-  _ "with bound hands?" _

"Just wwas letting you make up your mind, that's all."

Eridan focuses on getting dressed first, stripping off his pajamas and folding them up. While going through the process, he retrieves the shock collar's remote from his pocket, ensuring it doesn't get lost in his laundry. Eridan meticulously puts on his uniform with care, adjusting his cape and the various medallions and badges on his chest. He smoothed out minor wrinkles, brushing himself down. Finally, he retrieved his glasses from his nightstand, slipping them on his face to complete his appearance. Time to deal with this nuisance.

"Try anything, you'll get shocked. I take it you remember howw that wwent last evvening," Eridan warned, holding the remote in one hand. In the other, he unlocked the handcuffs around Dave's wrists. He stepped back, remote in hand and ready to act, if needed.

Dave wrinkles his nose, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the Commander go through his  _ stupidly _ long process of getting ready, the entire time experiencing the absolutely disgusting feeling of having cum slowly ooze out of him, thick trail after trail.

Fucking gross.

Well, the cum too. The Commander is clearly  _ such _ a pompous fucking asshole. 

Dave just nods a little at the Commander's thread, and when his hands are released, he doesn't do anything more than rub at the skin there, then get up, shove the heels of his hands against his lower back, and crack it with an  _ orgasmic _ sounding moan. 

" _ Fuck _ ." He coughs again and goes to the bathroom to hunt down a washcloth and wash up.

Oh, that crack and moan goes straight to Eridan's bulge, but he can't act on it. Not this early in the day, it would just throw off his plans. So instead, he pushes those thoughts aside, trailing Dave into the bathroom.

Eridan leans in the doorway, hand on the remote as he closely watches Dave clean himself up. No unauthorized shampoo cocktails or other attempts to poison himself (or Eridan) would be tolerated this morning, but he didn't bother shadowing Dave around as genetic material was wiped from slick thighs and legs. Instead, he let Dave take his time, enjoying the sight of what he was responsible for causing.

Behind Eridan, in his bedroom, one of the launderers delivered a fresh set of clothes for Dave, handing them over to Eridan. He stepped into the bathroom, placing a red prisoner jumpsuit and pair of white briefs on the edge of the bathtub.

"Change into that wwhen you're all fresh and done."

Dave isn't stupid enough to try killing himself (or the Commander), not with the bastard watching him like a goddamn hawk, especially after last night. He does tilt his head to get a better look at the marks on his neck, which,  _ eugh _ . Yeah. Those are pretty rough. 

He washes up, though, and just makes a noncommital noise of understanding at the Commander's words, not bothering with modesty seeing as the Commander had both  _ already bathed him _ and been  _ literally balls deep _ inside of him yesterday. 

So he washes up and gets dressed, rolling his shoulders and neck out for a moment before sighing and just presenting his wrists to the Commander again with an impatient  _ 'alright, get it over with’ _ , because there's no fucking way he  _ isn't _ cuffing Dave back up, so might as well make it easy.

Eridan steps forward, closing the distance between the two. His eyes scan Dave up and down once more, analyzing his body, and his mind drifts back to last night. The tensing up and flinching from last night come to mind, so delightful to spot a weakness in his opponent. After clacking the handcuffs back around Dave's wrists, he wraps a hand around Dave's neck, gentle this time, before going in for a soft kiss, brushing his lips against Dave's.

It's so soft, so gentle, and so utterly cruel. If anything, it seemed like these displays of affection sickened Dave more than any of the torture, the beating, and the assault. Eridan could work with that. He breaks the kiss, staring into Dave's eyes. 

Dave's eyes. Right.

"Just a moment."

Eridan leaves Dave where he stands, briefly scouring the bathroom for something from last night. He quickly returned, pushing Dave's shades back onto his face. Couldn't have any of the petty officers aboard his ship stealing looks into those pretty red eyes, now could he?

"Let's get a movve on," Eridan said, beginning to lead Dave out of his private quarters.

The Commander steps forwards and he looks Dave up and down for a moment before clicking the handcuffs into place, and Dave has to resist the urge to sigh. 

He-

What the fuck.

Eridan  _ kisses _ him. Soft and gentle and the tiniest press of just their mouths together and it makes Dave's gut  _ churn _ , it makes him want to flinch back but he can't with the hand on his neck. He hates how his eyes slide shut, how his heart beats faster like a fucking schoolgirl on prom night.

As Eridan breaks the kiss, Dave's eyes flutter back open, and he  _ hates hates hates _ how fucking vulnerable he feels, how open and stripped raw his chest is, like if he looks down he can just see his ribs cracked open to reveal his beating heart for the Commander to toy with.

The Commander pulls away after a long, searching look that lasted  _ way _ too fucking long. Dave hopes that the Commander  _ chokes _ on the hate that he's sure is burning in his gaze. 

Then the Commander slips Dave's shades back onto his face and  _ that's _ a welcome surprise, the fuck? But he's not about to complain as the Commander leads Dave out. 

Alright, fuck it. Bring on whatever shit the Commander is planning on shoving onto his already-full-of-shit plate.

Eridan can see it, he can read it all. The way Dave's eyes close shut and flutter back open, the way he looks back into Eridan's eyes...Eridan reads him like a book, relishing every second of Dave's emotional roller coaster.

He leads the way, dragging Dave by the handcuffs down the hall, staying in his wing of the ship. After leading Dave through a door, they're standing in an elegant dining room, reserved for the Commander's private use and visits from Alternian royalty, diplomats, and other high-ranking military officials. Eridan sat Dave down, taking his own seat beside him.

"The rest a' the officers on board eat at the mess hall, but this is one a' the privvileges I'vve got thanks to my status. Typically, prisoners wwait until lunch to eat. But I suppose for your first breakfast here, I can make an exception.  _ And _ if you improvve that terrible behavvior of yours..."

Eridan knows Dave would rather starve than go through this; it was just another way to toy with Dave's vulnerabilities. A fancy dining room, specially prepared food, one-on-one with Eridan...it was a  _ date _ in all but name and consent.

The Commander drags him by the handcuffs which, okay, at least its not by the collar this time, so whatever. Dave doesn't bother with digging his heels in this time, moving just quick enough to keep up.

"Good treats for good pets?" Dave drawls, his voice still hurting, but at least its not weak and cracking anymore. "I'd rather eat with the other prisoners." He coughs and clears his throat once before giving the Commander a shit-eating-grin.

"'Sides, you know you  _ love _ it." He teases. "I bet you'd be more bored if my behavior  _ wasn't _ rude."

He's ignoring the room as much as possible. He really actually might prefer to starve. Hm, theres an idea, what would the Commander do if he just... refused to eat?

Well, Dave wasn't wrong there. Much of his fun so far was watching Dave's struggle, his fighting back, his refusal to submit. While the destination of submission was quite an enjoyable goal, Eridan savored every moment of the journey. So yes, Eridan  _ would _ be more bored if Dave wasn't being his rude self. He wouldn't admit that though.

"You wwill  _ not _ be eatin' wwith the other prisoners. End of discussion." Blunt. Direct. Authoritative.

One of the various lowblood staff enters the dining room, placing plates before Dave and Eridan. For Eridan, a lovely preparation of Scallops Eggs Benedict with brown butter, complemented with a glass of water. He had actually taken quite the liking to some of the various seafood found on Earth, resulting in plenty variety for a 'catch of the day'. For Dave, there's some eggs and bacon, served with apple juice. Alternian moles on Earth had gathered intel on rebel leaders for sweeps, so Eridan did his research.

Once more, there were sticks, and there were carrots.

Dave fakes a pout at the order. "Aw. And here I was thinking-" He pauses to swallow down a cough, "that I could start a good old fashioned mutiny." 

There's a weird flicker of relief in his belly, though- what would other humans say at the sight of him captured? The jeers  _ alone _ would be terrible.

He tosses his legs over the side of the chair, sitting sideways, and looks down his nose at the plate of food, raising a brow.

"You cannot expect me to just  _ eat _ anything you give me." He drawls, but his stomach is making itself known that yeah, he's pretty fucking hungry.

"Wwhat, you wworried about poison?"

Eridan scoffs at that, shaking his head as he digs into his breakfast. He figured Dave was just playing difficult with flimsy excuses, but flimsy excuses would be easier for him to shoot down and further torment his new captive.

"If I wwere gonna kill you, don't you think I wwould'vve done it by noww? Wwhen I wwas shocking you or wwhen you wwere asleep or wwhen I had your head in my hands in that bath...I could'vve done it by noww. So I don't see your sudden, newwfound concern for this."

For all the irritation Dave seemed to enjoy causing, it was...Eridan couldn't find the word for it. He was like a cute wriggler pitching a fit because he didn't get what he wanted, pouting and all.

Dave snorts, lounging in the chair and still not touching the food.

"Weirder folks have done weirder things." He says. "Look up the  _ Saw _ documentaries." He says this with a slightly amused grin. "Now  _ there's _ some fucked up shit." Man, can he convince an alien that Saw is based on a true story? That'd be wild.

Still not gonna eat, though. He just doesn't want anything this bastard could offer him because  _ fuck that. _ Dave might be a prisoner, he might be entirely at the Commander's mercy, but he's not going to bend like a pathetic little bitch.

Eridan would normally take great care to look refined and proper when eating in company, but Dave wasn't exactly like the usual guests hosted in the dining room. Instead, Eridan hungrily scarfed down his food, making quick work of breakfast. He had a busy day ahead of him, and he didn't want to lollygag about. Dave, on the other hand, is attempting to avoid the issue at hand. Rambling about more human references...seems like a common crutch for his stalling techniques.

"I suppose you'vve forced my hand then. Can't havve you wwalkin' about emaciated," Eridan muses. 

Eridan reaches over to grab Dave's face with one hand, holding his cheeks as he turns Dave's head to face the full plate. With his other hand, he grabs a slice of bacon, guiding it up to Dave's lips.

"Open."

Dave raises a brow and then  _ okay _ , whelp, that's something new- his face is being grabbed and his cheeks squished and bacon is being pushed against his mouth and the Commander is deadass about to just fucking feed him by hand, huh. 

Alright, Dave can either play this straight or flirtatiously, but honestly, after last night he's really not feeling the flirts. 

So he arches his brows and looks up at the Commander, giving him a clear  _ are you for real _ expression. He'd crack a joke about really not being into ddlg but he's pretty sure that would lead to the bacon  _ actually _ being stuffed in his mouth, so. Yeah. No thanks.

Eridan frowns at the little rebellion against his planned feeding. There were now two distinct options in Eridan's mind: (a) try and somehow pull off the 'here comes the Alternian fleet vessel' trick used on wrigglers, or (b) use a little stick prodding. The choice was obvious. There was Option C of letting Dave go hungry for the morning, but Eridan eliminated that one right off the bat. He lets go of Dave's face, keeping the bacon in his other hand's grip.

Time for the stick.

After letting go of Dave's face, his now-freed hand fumbles in a pocket for an obvious device. That godforsaken remote. He cranks the dial with one hand from 0 to 2, remembering the effect that the 4 had on Dave yesterday. That was a tad too harsh for this time of day. Nonetheless, Eridan pressed the button, sending a jolt of electricity through Dave's body. At the first sign of a gasp, sputter, or whine, that food would be going in that mouth.

The Commander lets go of Dave's face and reaches into his pocket and Dave barely has a moment to think _ aw, fuck _ before the shock runs through him.

It doesn't hurt as bad as yesterday, it's clearly a lower voltage, but it does make him jerk in the chair, fingers clutching at the armwrests as he gasps, muscles going tight.

In goes the bacon. Of course. Fucking bastard. Dave almost chokes on it as his limbs tremble from the furious ache tearing through him.

Well, there goes one single strip of bacon. Seems like there would be a long breakfast ahead of them. Eridan, however, had another idea in mind. He switched the dial back to zero, cutting off power to the collar.

Without giving Dave much time to rest or recover, Eridan's back to holding his face with one hand, using his other hand to pick up the glass of apple juice.  _ Eridan _ takes a sip of the apple juice, holding it in his mouth. Does he look a bit ridiculous with his cheeks slightly puffed with juice? Maybe. Does that matter right now? Not really.

Instead, he focuses on leaning in and pulling Dave's face forward, the two meeting halfway as Eridan pushes his lips against Dave's once more. Kissing seemed to be one of Dave's vulnerabilities, so this would have to do. In the midst of the kiss, Eridan swished the apple juice from his mouth into Dave's, forcing it between his lips.

Dave forces down the bacon even as his limbs shake, and it's a relief when the Commander shuts it off. He heaves a breath, but then the Commander's hand is back on his face, squishing his cheeks and what the fuck is he doing-

The Commander fucking kisses him again, can this fucker fucking  _ stop doing that already _ , goddamnit- Dave squeezes his eyes shut and tries to pull back but the Commander's grip on his face is firm and won't let him move as Eridan kisses him. 

It's wet and weird and Eridan kisses his mouth open, Dave helpless to resist, and just fucking  _ feeds him _ the apple juice, it's so fucking disgusting, getting a mouthful of AJ flavored with the bastard's spit, tongue pressed into his mouth to guide it in, and Dave can only swallow reflexively, disgusted.

The experience is...unusual, but not unwelcome. Eridan pushes his tongue past Dave's lips and into his mouth, letting the apple juice flow from his mouth to Dave's. He can feel Dave's lips curling down against his in disgust and disdain, savoring the caliginous feeling.

Eridan pulls back, licking his lips slightly as he stares Dave down, methodically reviewing every small nonverbal reaction to what had just happened, taking in Dave's disgust. Seemed like he had achieved one of his two goals, time to check on the other.

"So are you gonna be able to eat like a big boy noww? Or do I need to repeat these steps a feww more times?"

Dave coughs a little as the Commander pulls back, twisting to wipe his mouth on an arm. Fucking  _ nas-tyyy, _ god. He hates the fact that the Commander just touches and  _ uses _ him so casually- and he hates hates  _ hates _ how even these forced touches makes his belly go warm.

Fuck every single moment of that. Time to fall on a time-honored Strider tradition: deflection and ignoring things like ~ _ feelings _ ~.

He looks up at the Commander and gives him a shit-eating grin. "I'm not so sure. You gonna cut up my French toast for me,  _ daddy _ ?" He drawls.

While the tumblr reference absolutely went over Eridan's head, the implication of  _ daddy _ did not. As part of Eridan's own exploration of human and Earth culture, he had...dabbled in examining human pornography. And human-on-troll pornography. And troll-on-human pornography. The sexual implications of the word rang in Eridan's head.

"Perhaps if you're wwell-behavved enough, that could be arranged,  _ baby _ ," Eridan replies, eyeing Dave down.

Anyway, time to the next aspect of ruining Dave's breakfast.

Eridan reaches over to grab the glass of apple juice once more, letting his cheeks swell up as he sipped at the drink. Eridan then spits it back into the glass, placing it on the table.

"Drink up."

Dave is the tiniest bit taken aback at the Commander's response. He wants to blurt out  _ holy shit you know what a  _ **_ daddy kink _ ** _ is???? _ but he has to put all of his energy into fighting down the heat in his face. 

The Commander-  _ ew _ , what the  _ fuck _ \- the Commander  _ backswishes _ into his fucking drink. 

"Oh you are the most disgusting motherfucker in all of existence dude, tainting apple juice like that." Dave says, nose wrinkling in disgust. "There is  _ no _ fucking way I'm drinking that."

Eridan relishes in the mixture of Dave's face heating up and his face twisting in disgust, accomplishing exactly what he had intended.

"Wwell, I suppose if you wwon't wwillingly drink it, then wwe're back to the old wways."

Eridan begins sipping at the juice, once again holding it in his mouth. His grip on Dave tightens as he pulls him back into another kiss, firmer now as he pushes more of the drink into Dave's mouth. After the last drops of the juice are moved into Dave's mouth from Eridan's, he maintains his grip, softening it as he eases pressure on the kiss. He deliberately makes it gentler, softer, flicking his tongue across Dave's soft lips.

Dave feels like recoiling, like retching and pulling away as the Commander comes in again, but he's helpless in the face of his rough, unyeilding grip and the firm press of his mouth. 

It's easier this time to blank it out and just let it happen, the Commander fucking _ baby birding  _ him the liquid, which Dave just fucking swallows down on reflex, but then Eridan shifts to something softer, his grip going...  _ gentler _ , his mouth sliding slowly and his tongue teasing at Dave's mouth, still kissing him even though he's already given Dave everything. 

Dave tries to just let it happen, his eyes shut and his mouth slack, letting Eridan do what he wants, just letting him get it over with. There's not heat licking up his spine, his heart isn't picking up in his chest at the fake affection behind the touch. It's  _ not _ .

Eridan can't see Dave's eyes behind his shades now, even face-to-face, but the rest of Dave's face sends a clear message. This was turning out to be a rather effective strategy. That was why Eridan would continue to employ it, not because he himself was enjoying the soft lips pressing against his own. That would be a ridiculous reason, wouldn't it?

Eridan pulls back from the kiss, before going back in for a peck on a cheek, the cherry on top of the sickeningly sweet emotional manipulation cake. He reached for his napkin, using it to slowly, thoroughly wipe Dave's lips off, before using it on his own lips.

"Noww, are you gonna be a  _ good boy _ and eat your breakfast, or do I need to send some more jolts through your little body?"

Fucking bastard. Fucking _bastard_ , Eridan is such a bastard and Dave's face is hot and his cheek is tingling where Eridan fucking _brushed_ _a kiss_ and then wiped his goddamn mouth and this is so fucking terrible he should have just kept his _damn_ mouth shut. 

"Go fuck yourself." Dave mutters, but reaches for a fork. His stomach feels tight, his face hot, his everything feels like a life fucking wire. He'll just eat his damn breakfast and concede this battle to Eridan (he seems to be doing that a lot- don't fucking think about it too much, Dave.)

As Dave's face heats up, Eridan takes notice of the intensifying blush burning Dave's cheeks and ears. There's a temptation to make another cruel remark about Dave's newest submission, but he doesn't want to risk Dave throwing another fit and refusing to eat. He'll take what he can get when it comes to compliance with his orders. Besides, there is still more emotional anguish and torment to inflict upon Dave in the day. Much, much more of that lay ahead. Eridan simply sits patiently, waiting for Dave to finish up his eggs and bacon.

As soon as Dave has just a few more small bites of food left, Eridan stands up from his chair, pulling Dave up to his feet. Forced Dave to start eating, forced him to stop too; refused to let him sit there and not eat, refused to let him finish. It's nothing personal, Eridan only has to reinforce that he's the one who calls the shots here, and his word is final. Also, it might be a touch personal too. But that's not the important part here.

"Wwe're behind schedule, so wwe must be quick noww."

Eridan offers no further explanation as he resumes leading Dave by his handcuffs, navigating through halls and corridors around his massive ship. They pass by petty officers, work staff, and other prisoners being escorted about by members of Eridan's crew, with Eridan and Dave receiving many looks as they make their way to a destination located in the lower decks of the ship: the armory. Eridan navigates himself and Dave through many ongoing assemblies of rifles, tridents, sickles, and other weaponry, eventually making their way to the section focused on smelting.

A blacksmith stood at the furnaces, waiting for the arrival of his Commander. Beside the furnace, lined up for Dave's viewing pleasure, are the swords harvested from the Strider apartment back on Earth, with Bro's unbreakable sword positioned in the center of the pack.

"Are you ready for a showw?" Eridan asks, watching as the blacksmith inserts the first blade into the burning flames.

The Commander doesn't let him finish eating- Dave should probably feel surprised, but at this point he's really not. The Commander loves to fucking jerk him around and why should this be any different.

He keeps his expression relaxed and his shoulders down, projecting an air of  _ completely unbothered  _ as he's led by the Commander through the ship. He ignores the looks from everyone- but the wide eyed glances from other prisoners as they recognize him  _ do _ hurt, he can't lie.

They end up somewhere hot and Dave feels his brow furrow for a moment at the sight of all the weapons. But then his attention is directed and- 

Oh. 

Well. 

That's probably to be expected. His gaze is fixed on the swords as he says casually, "is there a point to this? They're just blades, my dude."

"Wwell, I just wwant you to knoww that you're being relievved of your pesky wweapons permanently," Eridan replies, holding Dave's handcuffs with one hand.

Eridan steps forward, using his free hand to grab the hilt of another sword, inserting it into the fire slowly. The reflection of flickering flames shines in his eyes, watching as the steel melts away and is poured to the molding station, put to use on crafting more weaponry for the Alternian military. Eridan tosses the hilt aside, turning to look at Dave's face. While the shades hide his eyes, Eridan has found himself quite familiar with the twitches and twists of Dave's emotional reactions. He watches for any slimmer of fear, defeat, or pain, hoping to draw more torment out of the bastard who had caused him so much pain.

The blacksmith and Eridan continue to work at the lines of blades, melting them down and setting the hilts aside, until only one sword is left. The one most often used by Dave's brother, the one that humanity had claimed would be unbreakable under even the most heavy of pressure, the hottest of flames. Eridan inserts it into the fire, watching as the flames engulf the blade.

Nothing. No melting, no breaking. The sword holds up, a seemingly impossible feat for the temperature of the furnace. Eridan has half a mind to have it launched into the cold vacuum of space, but another idea crosses his mind. He approaches the blacksmith, handing him the sword and whispering a few words to ensure Dave cannot hear. And with that, the blacksmith is off, the unbreakable sword in hand. Eridan turns back to Dave.

"I'm glad those are 'just blades' to you, I hope there wwasn't any  _ sentimental _ attachment to them."

"Well, now, how about that." Dave muses, watching the Commander grab a blade and melt it down. "They're just swords. It's not a big deal, it's not like there are no swords in the world except for these ones."

It  _ does _ hurt, though, but it pisses Dave off more than it upsets him because like. Well. All those memories gone. The only thing that he can't suppress is the tiniest flattening of his mouth.

They leave Bro's ( _ don'tthinkaboutit _ ) sword for last, of course, and Dave watches as they thrust it in.

Ha. Pride tears through him at the sight of it staying firm. Bro's sword is unbreakable- and apparently unmeltable, too. 

"Oh, no." Dave lies. "Just blades. You missed the one from my old apartment that has any  _ real _ sentiment." He means, of course, the Sord, which he has little doubt that the Commander passed over because it literally looks like cardboard.

"Wwell, I'm glad you aren't hurt by wwhat just happened," Eridan replies, stepping forward to placing his hands on Dave's shoulders. "I'd hate to upset you."

Eridan closes the distance to once again press his lips softly against Dave's, a kiss of 'understanding' since Dave claimed he wasn't upset by what just occurred. Eridan is unfazed by the looks he gets from the trolls buzzing about the armory. In fact, he enjoys their watching gaze. He hopes it will further drill it into Dave's mind that he is Eridan's now. Dave has no more sovereignty, no more free will. And everyone will eventually see that, including Eridan's crew and Dave's fellow prisoners. It's a psychological strategy. If Dave believes everyone sees him as submitted and broken, perhaps he'll accept that as reality. The kiss is broken by Eridan, pulling away slowly.

"Noww, wwe'vve still got some more things on our schedule, so wwe should be getting a movve on."

Eugh. Disgusting. Dave feels his mouth twisting in disgust as Eridan kisses him soft and slow, the stares of everyone in the armory sinking down his spin like hot needles, prickling and uncomfortable. 

When Eridan pulls away, Dave raises his arms to wipe his mouth off with a disgusted curve to his mouth.

"Then lead on, oh mighty Commander." He drawls, putting as much sarcasm into his voice as humanly possible.

Dave's disgust practically goes straight to Eridan's bulge, enjoying the borderline erotic caliginous nature of his hatred for Eridan. A face of  _ hatred _ , in its purest, pitchest form. Eridan doesn't get his hopes up though. Dave's pitiful human brain isn't equipped to process the true complexities of a kismesissitude. Oh well, it's not like Dave's consent matters anyway.

Eridan pushes those thoughts away, leading Dave by his handcuffs once more. After more navigation through the labyrinthine decks, Eridan takes him to the seamstress. 

"For a more fittin' jumpsuit and pajamas," Eridan explains.

He unlocks the handcuffs to allow the seamstress to get the measurements she needs, but he maintains a sharp eye on Dave and a trigger finger on the shock collar's remote.

Dave can't really do anything but let himself be lead, now can he? So he shuts up and controls his breathing and forces his expression back to casual as they walk, despite the bubbling hate in his belly. 

The Commander unlocks his cuffs to let him get measured and Dave considers trying something, but one sideways look at the Commander tells him that the moment he even shifts out of place he'll be getting a nice, healthy does of electricity.

So he doesn't say anything, letting the seamstress do their thing.

The seamstress does her work quickly, recording Dave's inseam, shoulder width, arm length, and all the other various measurements ranging from his neck down to his ankles. She's ginger with Dave, her fingers lightly pressing the measuring tape against and around his body with great care. She says nothing beyond the soft mutters under her breath, noting the measurements as she works. Eventually, she wraps up, jotting down the final numbers. 

Before she can get to work, however, Eridan stops her to whisper a request in her ear. She gives a nod, heading behind a set of curtains. Eridan approaches Dave, swiftly locking the handcuffs back in place. After all, what was coming next would likely result in an attempted punch or two, so it was best to be cautious.

The seamstress returns with a small case in her hands, giving it to Eridan. He opens it up, revealing a pair of unmistakable sunglasses, triangular shape and all. His hands hold the sunglasses up for Dave to see, a faint smile coming across Eridan's face.

"Noww, wwhat do wwe havve here? I take it that these are 'just sunglasses' that don't hold any—"

_ Crack _ . Eridan snaps them down the middle, shattering the glasses. He drops the now-halved sunglasses to the floor, cracking the lenses under his foot. 

"Sentimental vvalue?"

The seamstress works and Dave just breathes, waiting for her to finish. When she does, the Commander locks his wrists back up, as expected. Dave almost rolls his eyes, but decides it's not worth the energy.

The seamstress brings out a box. 

Thats-

_ snap _

Dave  _ lunges _ . 

His brain is blank with a roaring hatred, his hands going straight for the Commander's  _ throat _ . He's going to fucking kill him. He's going to fucking murder this goddamn bastard that  _ killed his Bro _ and is disrespecting him like this, he's fucking flashstepping across the room and reaching for the bastard's goddamn throat.

Eridan is tackled to the ground, falling onto his back and knocking piles of fabric astray. Dave's hands wrap around his throat, still bound by the cuffs. Eridan can't shock Dave; Dave's hands touching his own neck means he'd be part of the complete circuit, sending jolts through  _ his _ body in addition to Dave's. Eridan thinks fast, Dave's hands quickly depriving oxygen from his brain.

With Dave on his chest, it's rather easy to land a punch on Dave's ribs, targeting the spot he had significantly bruised yesterday. His other hand lands an accompanying hook to Dave's other side, and he's soon punching away at Dave's sides, gasping for breathing as Dave continues to strangle him.

All the while, the caliginous feelings Eridan had been feeling continue to course through his veins, a twisted smile tugging at his lips as his heart beat faster, eyes staring up into the unblinking abyss of Dave's shades. This was true, proper  _ hate _ flowing through the human.

The seamstress readies her needles, seemingly ready to strike if ordered. Eridan waves her away. This is his fight. And he's intent on winning for himself.

Dave gets his hands around this fucker's throat and he doesn't hesitate to fucking  _ squeeze _ . He can feel them hit the ground, can feel his mouth opening in a wordless snarl of anger, but there's a rushing in his ears, he can't seem to hear anything. 

Pain lances up his side as the  _ utter fucking bastard _ lays a blow into his stressed ribs and Dave spasms with a noise of agony but he doesn't let go, he won't this fucker  _ killed his Bro, _ he killed him- another blow on his other side and that hurts but-

The Commander lays another blow into his stressed ribs and Dave feels something give. 

Then the pain hits. 

Everything rushes back in and Dave's head goes woozy at the all-consuming, throbbing, radiating pain from his ribs, stealing his breath. Another blow landed on his good side sends him toppling to the side, landing on his shoulder and retching, curling in on himself as blinding pain runs though him. 

His rib is most definitely broken. It's kind of hard to breathe. It's really hard to breathe. It tastes like iron.

Eridan gasps for breath as Dave falls off of him, standing up and brushing his uniform down. Slowly, his breathing returns to normal, his heartbeat adjusting as well. His neck has some marks left from Dave's strong grip, but he's definitely in better shape than Dave is. Speaking of...

That doesn't look good. Not at all. Eridan sighs, reaching down to pick Dave up in his arms. He moves quickly to take Dave to the medical ward, but he ensures he moves carefully enough to not jostle or rough Dave up in the journey. He couldn't let his prisoner die on his second day here from a pierced lung or internal bleeding or some other such potential injury. That would just be  _ irresponsible _ of him.

Eridan eventually makes it to the medic, helping them lay Dave out on a table. He steps back to let his crew do their work, stabilizing Dave. Eridan casually looks on, watching as Dave struggles to breathe, his mouth filling with blood. Why does he still have to look handsome like this? Knowing how attractive Dave looks, so broken and beaten...That's going to be too tempting to Eridan moving forward.

It's hard for Dave to focus on anything but the bone-deep throbbing pain radiating through him from his side, his body going cold. He groans wetly as he's jostled, unable to focus on anything, his vision hazy. He's had ribs broken before, but it's never been like this- never made iron fleck into the back of his mouth, never hurt so badly with every breath. 

Someone's carrying him, but Dave can't move at all, can't do anything but gasp and gasp and gasp, chest aching with every breath, mouth starting to get more and more full of thick blood. 

He's laid out on something flat and the lights are bright and there are people hovering over him and he can't move but at this point he would rather just not move at all so he doesn't and gasps and gasps until he's sinking into unconsciousness with his chest tight and blood running from his mouth.

Eridan continues to watch over Dave like a hawk. He's ensuring Dave doesn't wake up too soon, wanting to make sure he doesn't try to escape or attack the troll medics working away on saving his life. However, he's also watching to make sure those medics  _ do _ save his life. Some of the medical professions seemed to treat humans as more expendable than trolls. While Eridan sympathized with this viewpoint,  _ this _ human was special. It was  _ his _ human, not just any random prisoner pulled off the desolate streets of Earth. Couldn't have him dying under the knife. No. Dave wasn't going to die this early, and he was most definitely not going to die at the hands of someone else, even accidentally.

So Eridan watches. Watches as they stabilize Dave, patch him up. Watch as they sedate him, let him rest and heal. Watches for hours and hours into the night. His plans for the evening are ruined, taken from him by Dave's childish and impudent rage. Eridan pushes those concerns aside, simply talking with the doctors about the next steps going forward.

The night ends with Eridan slowly, carefully caring a sedated, unconscious Dave back to his bedroom. Eridan takes off the gaudy medical gown, leaving Dave in just a pair of underwear, hands still cuffed and shock collar still around his neck. While no bulges warm themselves inside Dave's body tonight, Eridan does push his body against Dave's, holding him closely. The next few days consist of Eridan standing over and laying beside Dave, with the nights being more semi-spooning sessions to ensure Eridan  _ feels _ any movement Dave makes. Patiently, Eridan waits for Dave to wake.


	4. Chapter 4

Dave drifts in and out of consciousness, never quite surfacing all the way, but getting flashes of sensation. Cool hands on his skin. Aching discomfort. The press of skin on his. Smooth fabric cradling his body.

He has no concept of how long he's been unconscious, but when he opens his eyes, he feels exhausted. His ribs ache, his lungs feel raw when he breathes.

But he opens his eyes and Eridan is curled around him. There's a brief, long, tired moment where he thinks about turning over and putting his hands around Eridan's neck.

He doesn't.

Instead, he just closes his eyes and slips back into a tired doze, breathing slowly until Eridan wakes up for the morning.

He's so fucking tired.

  
  


Eridan sleeps like a log through the nights, with the last night being a particularly good night of rest for the seadweller. The sleep itself is the usual, mainly consisting of a scattering of nightmares from his time on the battlefield and his time back on Alternia. However, as he drifts off to sleep for the third consecutive night of Dave's recovery, he's greeted by a familiar, welcome sight.

He's back on the schooner on Alternia, the water as clear as the sky. His ship is piercing through the waves without a worry in sight. No enemy naval vessels, no ambushes ahead, no Vriska, no drones, no threshecutioners...just himself and his first mate. It's—

Eridan wakes up, blinking his eyes open. He raises a hand to rub away the rheum, slipping his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. Dave seems to stir slightly, moreso than the past few days, at least. Eridan reaches a hand forward, pressing the back of his hand against Dave's cheek.

"Are you awwake noww?"

  
  


The Commander stirs, bringing Dave out of his exhausted drifting. A cool hand presses against his cheek.

It's like everything's caught up with Dave all at once.

They lost. He's captured, a toy for the Commander's amusement. Bro's dead.

fuck.

_ Bro's dead. _

He should be crying. Should be mourning him. Should be angry at the Commander for killing Bro.

Dave just feels numb.

"Leave me alone." He mumbles, knowing it won't do anything. "Should've just let me die."

  
  


"Noww wwhere's the fun in that?" Eridan asks, his knuckles gently brushing against Dave's cheek.

Eridan has half a mind to resume his  _ original _ plans, the plans Dave had ruined by getting himself hurt like that. Instead, he figures a bit more rest would do them both well. It would let Dave continue to wallow in his utter defeat, his humiliation, and his grim future, and it would allow Eridan to tend to other business around the ship. Eridan leaves Dave in bed, venturing over to a drawer on a nearby dresser. He fumbles around for a bit, before returning with a chain and a padlock.

He wastes no time for Dave to come to his senses or to fight back or make any moves, roping the chain through a small loop in the collar. His hands moving quickly, he wraps the chain around one of the bedposts, clicking the padlock to hold the chains in place. The only key to the lock is quickly pocketed as he looks down at Dave.

"Get some rest. That's an order."

And with that, Eridan exits his bedroom.

It isn't long before he returns with a paper plate topped with eggs and bacon, no silverware. The cup of apple juice is served in a foam cup. Can't give the prisoner any opportunities to hurt himself, of course. Without saying a word, he places the plate beside Dave, leaving the room as suddenly as he had returned.

  
  


Yeah. Figures.

Dave expects the Commander to haul him out of bed. Instead, he just gets locked to it.

Well.

Whatever. If the Commander wants to fuck him, Dave won't stop him.

He doesn't though, instead ordering Dave to  _ get some rest _ and leaving. Dave shouldn't do anything that the commander tells him to do- but he can't bring himself to care, sinking back into a light doze.

The presence of food makes Dave's stomach growls- but his brain says  _ don't bother, maybe you can starve to death, _ so Dave doesn't touch it. Just turns over on the bed and stays there.

  
  


Eridan goes about his business on the ship, but his mind still lingers on Dave. Is he going to try and break the chain? Choke himself out? Some other unfeasible yet still worrying possibility that would deprive Eridan of his newest toy? The worry plagues his mind throughout the day, until he eventually returns to his bedroom in the early evening, greeting Dave once more—and his full glass of juice and plate of food.

"You knoww, you're not gonna get to starvve. Do you realize that? Maybe you go a feww days wwithout food. Maybe you end up feelin' intense pangs of hunger. But all that wwill happen is being dragged to the medical wward to be hooked up wwith a shitload a' tubes to pump shit into your pathetic body, all 'cause of some misguided effort to be free of this," Eridan explains, standing beside Dave's side of the bed.

He leans in, pressing his forehead against Dave's, holding Dave's handcuffed hands in his own to prevent Dave from getting any ideas.

"You wwill nevver be free from this. You're mine noww. The sooner you get that through your thick fuckin' skull, the better. Noww, wwe're gonna go havve a nice dinner wwhere you'll eat or I feed you myself again."

  
  


_ You're mine now. _

There's a dull horror in his veins, but Dave just looks up at the Commander numbly. Is there a point to doing anything?

They lost. Dave is just a plaything for this invader. His Bro is dead.

The Commander's holding his wrists, has his forehead pressed to Dave's.

_ Pathetic _ . Something inside Dave whispers. It sounds suspisciously like his Bro. _ Just going to roll over because I'm dead? I raised you better than that, Davey. _

"Fine." Dave says, and finds the word more bitten off than he expected. Something hot is fluttering in his belly, but he doesn't know what it is. Something slowly flooding through him, filling his limbs with strength again.

It's like he's waking up again. Everything hurts, but if he wallows-

Well.

The Commander really  _ does _ win, doesn't he?

  
  


God, Dave's numb face, the  _ resignation _ of it all, warms Eridan's heart. It had only taken minutes after waking up from his rest, but Dave looked just as defeated, as beaten, and as broken as before. It was absolutely splendid, and Eridan was glad things were back to normal. Well,  _ their _ normal, at least.

Eridan closes the distance, brushing his lips against Dave's gently, speaking against his lips.

"Let's get you dressed up then."

He pulls back, leaving Dave chained to the bed as he goes to fumble through the closet. While Dave was out, the seamstress had managed to put together a new prisoner jumpsuit custom-fit for Dave. It's red, with violet trimmings and an embroidered Aquarius symbol across the left breast.

Eridan uncuffs Dave's wrists, unchaining him from the bedpost. He slowly, reluctantly unfastens the shock collar, allowing Dave to get dressed as easily as possible. He does, however, remain on his guard. Dave's recovering body is likely to pose even less of a threat now, but Eridan remains cautious nonetheless.

  
  


The Commander kisses him again and Dave closes his eyes, just lets it happen despite the disgust twisting in his belly. He wants to claw the bastard's face off as Eridan murmurs softly, but he just works himself up into a sitting position as the Commander pulls away.

Dave breathes deep as the collar is taken off. It's an illusion of freedom- standing there for a moment under his own power, with nothing chaining him.

He uses to moment to take stock of his own body- he feels a bit weak, but that's to be expected if he hasn't been eating. His stomach twists into knots at the reminder, but he ignores it. Being hungry isn't anything new.

His rib throbs with a dull ache, but it's miles better than the last thing he remembered- which was a sickening snap and then everything hurting and being very very hard to breath.

Dave could probably make another attempt at killing- or at least seriously maiming- the Commander, especially unrestrained.

Then the illusion slips away and he's shucking his clothes off, pulling the new jumpsuit on. Dave knows his limits. He might be suicidal (hah), but he's not  _ stupid _ . If he's going to kill himself he's going to do it in some way that will fuck over the aliens.

"Lock me up, Scotty." He says dryly, holding his wrists out. He'll play along like a good little pet. Make the Commander think he's docile and broken after getting his rib snapped.

The Commander'll slip up. They always do.

  
  


Eridan watches as Dave gets dressed in his new outfit, stepping forward to complete the ensemble. On his wrists, Eridan snaps on the lovely pair of steel dual-bracelets, connected by chain, locked with a key. Around his neck goes the lovely steel necklace, with electronic modifications for the wearer's ~~pain~~ pleasure. What a pretty get-up.

"Kirk nevver actually uttered 'Beam me up, Scotty' in the series. It wwas alwways vvariations on that phrase, but it appears accuracy means nothing to humans," Eridan replies bluntly, beginning to lead Dave back into the dining room. It would appear  _ Star Trek  _ would fall under Eridan's guilty pleasures of human culture.

Eridan sits Dave down at the dining room table, taking the seat beside him once more. He uncuffs Dave, but his other hand holds the switch to the shock collar, prepared to press the button at any moment. As Eridan stares Dave down, fully prepared to send more jolts through his body, dinner is served.

"Pan-seared halibut and a lobster bisque. Figured it wwould be good to commemorate you wwaking up," Eridan explained.

Dave seemed to easily bounce back from the torture. Electrocution, strangulation, plain-old beatings...but the romanticism, the feigned sympathy and care seemed to get under his skin and stick with him. Eridan had found the perfect line of attack.

  
  


"You have  _ got _ to be kidding me." Dave says flatly. "The great commander of the invaders. A  _ nerd _ ."

Does he have so much much extra time on his hands that he just idly consumes the culture of the species he waged such a brutal, destructive war-

No, not a war.

A  _ massacre _ on.

The hatred sparks in his belly, but Dave knows he's hiding it well as he sits and the Commander unlocks his cuffs. He eyes the silver wear for a moment, he's pretty sure he could grab a fork and jam it into the bastard's throat, but- the way he's fingering the remote makes Dave think he won't get far, so he discards the idea.

"All for me? How  _ fancy _ ." Dave drawls. "You shouldn't have."

He's not going to let the Commander feed him again. That was just gross.

  
  


Eridan quirked a brow as if asking  _ 'and, so what?' _ at Dave's mockery. Eridan did plenty of reading, researching, and examination of professional aspects of human culture. It wasn't gonna kill the the guy to sit back and enjoy  _ some _ outliers of the predominantly decadent, inferior culture.

"All for  _ us _ ," Eridan corrects Dave, pouring a bottle of wine into two glasses. "I insist, only the best for my most special of prisoners."

Eridan keeps a focus on Dave in his peripheral vision, trigger finger on the button as his other hand brings a spoonful of the creamy soup to his lips. His eyes watch to ensure Dave doesn't try anything smart—and to make sure he actually eats his meal without Eridan's assistance this time.

  
  


Dave sure as shit doesn't try anything as he starts eating, but there's no way he's touching the wine. He's got enough to deal with without being  _ intoxicated _ , too.

"Well, now, your most  _ special _ of prisoners." Dave muses. "That's a way to make a lady feel  _ fancy _ . I guess you really  _ don't _ treat all your prisoners like this."

_ You're mine. _

Dave ignores the whisper and very pointedly does  _ not _ shiver. Fuck off, stupid brain.

  
  


An annoyed pout comes across Eridan's face as he watches Dave avoid the wine. Win some, lose some, it appears. Eridan calls the lowblood back into the room, whispering some instruction to him. A few moments later, and Dave is given a glass of ice water. Typically Eridan would  _ insist _ upon drinking the fine red wine, so perfectly complementing the meal, but Eridan decided against it tonight. Dave was eating on his own and wasn't trying anything clever. Besides, the alcohol might interfere with whatever treatment the medics had put him on. Better safe than sorry.

"Wwell, it's not often I capture a prisoner wwith such a..." Eridan pauses in though, looking for the word.

" _ Reputation _ as you yourself havve."

Eridan is quiet as he resumes eating his dinner, continuing to keep an eye on Dave. Just in case. He finishes off the bisque, dabbing his lips clean, before beginning to work on the halibut. God, for as terrible as most human culture (and humans themselves) was, they had some fantastic seafood. It reminded Eridan of his days back on Alternia.

"Howw are you enjoying the food?"

  
  


Dave's stomach twists slightly as he's reminded of his status as a fucking  _ champion _ to the world. Hey, he didn't fucking pick the title or wanted to be given it. He and his Bro were just two people fighting their fucking hardest to save the world.

He doesn't respond to the Commanders remark other than a mild little "Mm," continuing eating like the words aren't bothering him.

"I mean, it's good, but it's no In-N-Out." Dave says carelessly, as the Commander asks about the meal. He doesn't actually like In-N-Out that much- Five Guy's is better, but if he can get the Commander to  _ fucking order fast food  _ then Dave will lose it and everything will be worth it. He'll die a happy prisoner.

He's a little bit surprised that the Commander gets him water and doesn't force him to drink the wine. He'd thought for sure that the Commander would  _ love _ to get his inhibitions lowered.

"But it's not bad." He says with a little shrug. He's lying, of course, fish this good is basically non-existent in Dave's diet of  _ 'any fucking thing he could get his hands one that was at least somewhat decent to eat'. _ Not exactly a new diet, so it doesn't leave a whole lot of room for really fucking good seafood.

  
  


"Hm,  _ In-N-Out? _ Wwell—," Eridan cuts himself off, contemplating for a brief moment. "Wwell, wwhat other Earthly cuisines are you a fan of?"

Eridan makes sure to keep his voice casual, relaxed. All the while, however, the gears in his mind are turning.  _ There are sticks, and there are carrots.  _ It wouldn't kill Eridan to send some of his men off to the surface for the odd food run here or there. The crew revered Eridan for his tactical prowess and his part in triumph over the humans, so a few food errands wouldn't hurt them either. Besides, it was in the interest of further breaking down humanity's champion, even through a carrot approach.

The halibut is quickly gone from his plate, leaving Eridan with an empty bowl and an empty plate before him. He patiently waits for Dave to wrap up, leisurely sipping at his wine.

"Is there room for dessert on your part?"

  
  


Dave is the fucking master of pokerfaces. He  _ is _ , because hearing the great alien Commander say the words _ In-N-Out _ is enough to make him break down into laughter. But it holds and there's not even a twitch on his face as he continues eating.

"You're clearly a fish-y kinda guy, I bet you'd love sushi." Dave muses. "Delicately sliced fish, melting in your mouth, sometimes on it's own, sometimes with rice or other fillings- good sushi is a fucking world class food of it's own."

"Too bad you _ bombed the shit _ out of Japan." He says, idly forking a last piece of fish off and popping it in his mouth. "No idea if there are any true masters of sushi left." He muses around his fork.

Man, poor Japan. Just thinking about it makes Dave's stomach sour.

"I think I'll pass on dessert." He says, setting his fork down.

  
  


Eridan tenses up slightly, mechanically bringing his napkin up to his lips once more. There's a tension in his gut, boiling up quickly. He sets the napkin in his lap, calling the lowblood back in once more. Another whisper. And he's off once more.

"I quite enjoy sushi, in fact. I find the vvarious types a' rolls fascinating, especially those that manage to balance such deadly, toxic ingredients into such delicious flavvor," he explains, his words cold. "There wwere some survvivvors. And cookbooks and recipes survvivved."

The lowblood returns with two slices of apple pie à la mode, and Eridan wastes no time before taking his first bite of the treat. Swallowing it down, he pauses, body still rigid as he considers whether or not to address Dave's little dig in more detail.

He will.

"If I didn't, someone else wwwwould'vvvve. Pretty simple to followwww: I don't attack, they strike first instead, I lose men wwwwho could havvvve otherwwwwise livvvved, an' the Empire executes me on charges a' treason or bein' a fuckin' double agent for humanity. Then, the Imperial higher-ups install someone to do a bombin' strike evvvven fuckin' wwwworse than wwwwhat I did, 'cause they'd be out for  _ 'revvvvenge for their fallen comrades' _ or wwwwhatevvvver."

Eridan's white-knuckling his silverware with an iron grip, his accent strongly and roughly bleeding through as he talks. There's a kernel of truth to what he's saying; the Empire probably would have had him replaced if such a blunder occurred, and there likely would have been worse retribution. But, more than telling a small truth, Eridan is absolving himself of guilt. It would have happened either way. It wasn't his fault. It didn't matter.

  
  


Dave doesn't touch his pie. He's not hungry anymore.

He snorts. "Right." He drawls, propping an elbow on the armrest of his chair and resting his chin on his fist. "So, what, I should feel sorry for you that you had to do such an awful thing? I should feel  _ pity _ because if you didn't, someone else would have done  _ worse _ ?"

"Yeah." He shakes his head. "My heart  _ bleeds _ for you, it really does. Doesn't change the fact that all those innocents who had nothing to do with the rebellion- nothing to do with the  _ war _ \- their blood is on your hands."

This would be the moment where he would say 'may I please be excused' while standing up and leaving anyway, if this was a movie. Alas, it is not- so he just has to stay here in his chair, mouth flat.

  
  


"Fuckin' hell, I'm not asking you to feel  _ sorry _ for me," Eridan replies, fork and knife clattering against his plate as he wraps up his dessert.

In fact, that might be the last thing Eridan would want right now. His heart is pumping something fiercely pitch, the seadweller reveling in the warmth of Dave's hatred like a sauna of scorn. If not for the limitations of the inferior human mind, this would be a blossoming kismesissitude.

_ Pity _ would ruin that. "Perhaps this is wwhy your kind lost. Unable to think more than one step ahead. If anything, I should be the one pityin' the futile fight you put up. A pathetic attempt. A  _ pitiful _ attempt," Eridan mused, a finger tracing over the switch to Dave's shock collar, just in case.

"But I havve no pity for you."

Eridan keeps one finger against the button, ready to press, as he stands up from his seat at the table. He motions for Dave to stand, intensely watching every move, ensuring no silverware could be smuggled out or lunge could be made.

  
  


_ I think the months of outlasting you would say otherwise, _ Dave thinks smugly, and he's sure it comes across in the tilt of his head, but he just makes a low,  _ whatever you say _ noise in his throat. He flips his dinner knife idly in his hand before dropping it on the table and standing up.

He  _ definitively _ hit a nerve, there. Might be something he could exploit, in one direction or another. "What's on the big master agenda next, oh terrifying not-as-bad-as-you-could-be Commander?" He drawls.

  
  


"A bath, then wwe go to bed," Eridan bluntly explains, fastening the handcuffs around Dave's wrists once more.

It wasn't  _ really _ a lie. Eridan just left out the details for what would happen once they got to the bed. The brief interruption of Dave's days-long incapacitation had ruined the plans he had a few nights ago, so it was only right for Eridan to follow up on them.

"And before you complain, you havven't showwered or bathed in fuckin' days. Not a shot in hell wwas I gonna lug your unconscious husk into a tub in your sorry state. Noww that you're up and at 'em, that wwon't be a concern anymore."

With that, Eridan began walking Dave back to th—

his bedroom.

  
  


"No complaints from me, chief." Dave says, letting Eridan cuff him again. He's actually really exhaused. Even when you're asleep, healing is surprisingly draining.

Dave idly wonders if the Commander is going to do the same thing as  _ last _ time which- well. Dave's more awake this time so maybe he'll find an opening.

(....thats the reason. There's nothing else.  _ Not at all _ .)

  
  


_ Chief _ .

It's completely unintentional. There's no way he could know about it, but the word stings.  _ Chief _ . It instantly dredges up memories of the older violetblood who had taken Eridan under his wing. The older violetblood who smuggled packs of cigarettes into their barracks. The older violetblood who had given his life to buy Eridan enough time to retreat during the Houston offensive.

Eridan snaps out of it and focuses back on the present, shaking the smooth-talking voice saying  _ chief _ from his head. He's silent as he takes Dave into the bedroom, quickly fetching their pajamas from the closet before finally leading them back into the bathroom.

He quickly strips down while Dave is still cuffed and collared. The rest is pretty straightforward routine in Eridan's mind by now. Collar removed, wrists unshackled, and his eyes watching Dave like a hawk, ready to lay into him in case he tries anything. "Strip."

  
  


No response from that one, huh. Well alright then. Dave saunters along behind the Commander, thoughful. He had clearly struck a nerve, and he keeps turning Eridan's words over in his mind.

_ The Empire executes me on charges a' treason. _

_ Our entire race wwould collapse. _

_ Just doin' my job. _

There are some ideas half-formed in his brain, but Dave keeps them to himself, studying the Commander as they walk. He wishes he were back on Earth, wishes he could look up some stuff to think over, but he can't.

They go to the bathroom and yeah, here they go again. He rubs at his wrists when they're freed, then shucks all of his clothes off without protest.

"Now I know, it's a lot, don't stare too hard." Dave drawls. "I'm body shy."

He's nothing of the sort.

  
  


It's only been days, but Eridan had quickly grown to miss the site of Dave's bare body, all of his weaknesses and flaws and scars and imperfections on full display for the seadweller to pick apart and analyze. His eyes dance over Dave's body as he steps closer. He reaches forward, taking Dave's shades off of his face to set them with the rest of their clothes, allowing his eyes to stare into those bright red irises.

He wraps his hands around Dave's neck, prepared to choke him to the brink of unconsciousness if needed. For now, however, he dishes out his favorite form of torture, closing the distance to brush his lips against Dave's. He gives Dave's throat a cautionary squeeze, a warning to not resist the kiss.

  
  


The Commander tugs his shades free and cradles Dave's neck in his hands as he leans in. The kiss that Eridan gives him is soft and light and Dave just closes his eyes and lets it happen.

Eugh.

He's got no false delusions- the Commander is doing this  _ purely _ to fuck with him. He could snap Dave's neck in a heartbeat, but instead he's getting some sick, twisted enjoyment out of touching Dave and playing with him and acting so  _ tender _ towards him.

So Dave just. Lets it happen.

  
  


Eridan decides to add some flair to the usual routine, tracing a hand up Dave's bare stomach and chest and resting it on Dave's pecs. He steps forward, pushing deeper into the kiss—and pushing their bodies closer together. His bulge slowly writhes and wraps around Dave's bare cock, with Eridan letting out low, dominant seadweller chitters against Dave's lips.

His eyes remain focused forward, unblinking as he analyzes Dave's face. Eridan looks for the smallest twitches, the tiniest winces, anything that would indicate Dave's feelings about the situation at hand. It was always so nice to have Dave's full face on display, no silly shades to hide behind.

He breaks away without warning, his bulge slowly dragging away from Dave. The faucet is turned off, and Eridan ushers Dave into the tub of steaming water.

"Noww, howw's it feel?"

  
  


He- what the fuck- Eridan's touching him and fucking  _ caressing _ him like he's Dave's goddamn  _ lover _ and it makes Dave's skin crawl. Eridan kisses him deeper, pressing his cool tongue into Dave's mouth and Dave  _ shudders _ softly in response. He fucking- he can't fucking  _ take _ this soft shit, it's violating in all of the worst ways- fuck, even being  _ raped _ hadn't made this terrible knawing pit of shame and disgust open up in his belly.

He keeps his eyes closed but feels his breath catch as Eridan's (gross) alien dick wind around his soft one, like it's fucking  _ holding _ it, Eridan making pleased,  _ smug _ sounding clicks and chitters liek he fucking  _ owns _ Dave- which, in a terrible sense, he  _ does. _ God  _ fucking _ dammit does the idea send overwhelming shame and distress careening through him like ping pong balls in a wind chamber, but only so much so because something in his chest is lighting up and going soft and shivery at the idea.

Then it's over and the Commander is pulling away, ushering him into the bath and it's hot and relaxing and does nothing to get rid of the soft,  _ terrible _ ache in Dave's chest.

"Hot and wet." Dave manages, sinking down in to his chin. "Not sure what else you're looking for, here."

  
  


Eridan can see it, hear it,  _ feel _ it all. The way Dave practically trembles as Eridan's tongue works into Dave's warm mouth, the way Dave's breathing shifts when his bulge wraps around Dave's cock...The small yet utterly revealing displays of Dave's discomfort, his violation at his hands. It is an absolutely perfect mix of sensations to experience.

A soft sigh of relief escapes Eridan's lips as he lowers himself into the tub, the warm water letting Eridan's muscles fully relax. He keeps his eyes open as he dunks his head under the surface of the water (thank you, seadweller biology) to watch Dave. After running his hands through his water, adequately wetting his hair, he pulls his head back up. Now to deal with this smart ass.

"Of fuckin' course it feels hot and wwet. Is it helping you relax after being in a fuckin' coma, you ungrateful twwit?"

  
  


Dave shifts to fold his arms on the edge of the tub as he watches the Commander, resting his head on them. He watches the Commander sink below the surface of the water, slicking his hair back as he comes back up.

He  _ does _ feel more relaxed, honestly. "Oh, you know." He says, giving the Commander a lazy grin. "Would prefer the coma, but the bath isn't too shabby." He's underselling it. The bath feels  _ really fucking nice _ on his sore, aching bones and muscles.

  
  


Hm. Another stupid quip of his, which is to be expected, but there's now a grin tugging at Dave's face. It seems the baths were definitely more effective at lulling Dave into a sense of security than the elegant meals, especially given Dave's behavior during the first breakfast and the most recent dessert. Eridan makes a mental note of that.

"Wwell, I didn't havve to listen to your snarky attempts at humor wwhen you wwere out cold, so perhaps wwe both enjoyed that little snooze a' yours."

Dave's medical situation did allow Eridan to focus on other orders of the day, but there was always that nagging concern in his mind that he'd come back to the bedroom to find Dave gone for good. That couldn't happen yet. There was still so much to do. Speaking of 'not wanting Dave to die just yet'...

Eridan reaches over to Dave's side of the tub, grabbing the toiletries from the edge of the tub. He sets them back on the edge, closer to himself and out of Dave's immediate reach. Again, it was more of a precautionary action than actually suspecting anything just yet.

"Come ovver here. I'm gonna wwash your hair again."

  
  


"Ouch." Dave mock-pouts, putting a hand to his chest in fake-hurt. "You mean you didn't miss my sweet hella ironic quips and japes? That's cold."

For a brief moment, he contemplates going over there and trying to strangle the Commander. Then he discards that idea- the Commander is definitely physically stronger than him. Well, maybe Dave could tear his gills out or something.

Later. He has hair to get washed.

So he turns around and settles himself between Eridan's legs, slouched down a tiny bit to give Eridan full access to his hair.

"Seriously, first you insult my material, which is  _ so _ unfair, then you insinuate you don't even like listening to my  _ attempts _ ." He mock-complains. "Really the audience in this comedy club is  _ so _ rude."

  
  


Oh boy, here comes the feigned, over-the-top retorts. These were yet another thing Eridan did not miss in the days of Dave's unconscious slumber. But Eridan would have to roll with the punches if it meant more time to toy with his captive.

"Again, maybe get better material and wwork on the  _ execution _ ."

With the last word, Eridan pushes Dave's head forward, dunking his head beneath the surface of the water. He waits one second, before pulling him back up with his freshly soaked mop of blond hair. His fingers smooth back the strands of hair, lightly scratching and massaging at Dave's scalp as he lets him take a breather from the sudden dunking. However, Dave isn't granted too much comfort. Eridan plants his hands on Dave's waist and pulls him in closer.

He plants a kiss to the back of Dave's head.

  
  


Dave was expecting it this time, so when he's shoved under the surface he has the awareness not to choke on the water. It's only a moment or two before he's being hauled back up and Eridan's fingers are smoothing through his hair, scratching at his scalp.

Dave feels like a  _ damn cat _ , christ.

"So I'll say again, show me stuff you find  _ ~better material~ _ or I'm going to s- tar -t," he stutters over the word, as he feels the kiss get pressed to the back of his head, "calling- you Lene Hisskill."

He hopes that Eridan didn't feel the shiver that slid down his spine, but knows that he probably did.

  
  


Another human pop culture reference flies over Eridan's head, but Dave's stutter and shiver do not go unnoticed. A smug, unseen grin tugs at Eridan's lips, but he says nothing. Eridan knows that Dave knows he felt it, and sometimes unspoken gestures are more powerful than a degrading remark. So Eridan leans forward again, kissing the back of Dave's neck now.

"I'm not a big fan a' comedy, but I knoww bad material wwhen I hear it," he replies, lips brushing against Dave's neck.

Eridan pulls back, pouring some shampoo in his hand and getting to work. He massages his fingers into Dave's scalp, lathering up his lovely hair with a generous amount of product. A few more scratches here and there, listening for any sounds Dave may make and watching for any potential body language in response to the pampering.

  
  


"Not a big fan of comedy?" Dave mock-gasps in fake shock, fighting back another shudder at the next kiss. He's mostly successful. "No wonder you're such a grumpy bastard. Comedy is the spice of  _ life _ . Come on, tell me."

He tilts his head up just a bit so that shampoo doesn't run into his eyes. It's  _ pragmatism _ , not compliance.

"Everyone has  _ some _ kind of humor they enjoy." Dave wheedles. "What's yours? Slapstick? Wordplay?" His eyes flutter shut for a moment as Eridan rubs his fingers over his temples, then down behind his ears.

Fuck, the  _ whole fucking thing _ feels good. Dave's can't lie.

  
  


Now seems as good a time as any for another quick dunk under water, fingers helping wash the lather from Dave's hair. Dave is pulled back up, with Eridan's hands smoothing his hair back once more.

"Hm. I suppose I havven't found it yet then, if that's the case," Eridan thinks aloud, more open to the idea than his previous responses. That's progress, at least. Enough of that, it's time for the emotional manipulation and sexual tension to return.

Eridan holds off on the conditioner for now, instead drifting his hands down Dave's back, fingers tracing over the scars scattered about his skin. Upon reaching Dave's hips, he lets his hands drift down Dave's legs, fingers pressing into Dave's inner thighs. Eridan leans forward, his voice now whispering into one of Dave's ears.

"You're an absolute  _ specimen _ , Davve. So unlike all the other pathetic dirtscrapin' land dwwellers on the surface."

  
  


One dunk later, Eridan muses on humor, but before Dave can say anything else, Eridan's hands are sliding over his back and that is  _ very _ much not a washing touch. Dave swallows as Eridan traces over the scars across his body- faded and white. Some stretched from growing bigger, others not. Some tiny little slashes, others wider and longer.

Then his hands slip over Dave's hips, fingers gliding over Dave's thighs and down to his soft inner thighs.

Dave swallows thickly, feeling his breath catch, tension in his spine as Eridan leans forwards and murmurs in his ear. His voice is low and husky, sending shivers across Dave's skin and Dave has to swallow to find his voice, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Find that a bit- hard to believe." Dave manages to speak without his voice shaking overly much.

  
  


"So much tougher, so  _ flawwed _ ," Eridan whispers, letting his hands rest upon Dave's inner thighs. "But that's wwhat makes you unique. These scars, your eyes, your wwhole demeanor. You wwere an outcast, wweren't you? Hid behind those rubbish glasses to avvoid mockery, is that it?"

Eridan's hands move up Dave's front, continuing to trace over the scars that litter his stomach and chest. They feel for  _ more _ . They feel for the slightest shudder, the slightest twitch, the slightest shift of his chest due to a change in his breathing. They feel for any indication of Dave squirming under Eridan's toying and prodding, wanting to explore just how Dave reacts under this pressure.

He eventually pulls his hands back, moving his head back as well. A dollop of conditioner is scooped from its container, quickly being spread through Dave's hair.

  
  


Dave's stomach squirms at Eridan's words. It's equal measure  _ praise _ and  _ understanding _ and yet it feels like  _ mockery _ . His toes flex slowly in the water, trying to get rid of the nervous, shivery energy in his belly as Eridan whispers to him. He can feel the tension rising in his body as Eridan runs his hands over Dave's front, having to force his breathing to be even but he shivers as Eridan's long, cool fingers drag up and over his belly, his chest, his eyes still firmly shut.

Finally, Eridan moves on to condition Dave's hair and Dave finally finds his words. "I guess you could say that the inner workings of my soul are, how do they say,  _ none of your fucking business." _

  
  


Eridan continues spreading the conditioner through Dave's hair, listening to Dave's response after he finally manages to speak.

His soul, eh? Well, that gives Eridan a bit of an idea. It would require digging up some old books of his and dancing around the Alternian laws, but it's definitely an avenue Eridan is contemplating for their little game at hand. The idea twists and floats around Eridan's head, thinking through the implications and potential effects, Eridan remaining quiet as he smooths the conditioner through Dave's hair.

And there's the next dunk. A few seconds pass, and Dave is back up at the surface.

"No need to bottle evverything up, is there?"

  
  


Eridan is silent as he works the conditioner through Dave's hair and Dave finds himself slowly relaxing again under the touch. Then, yeah, yeah, dunk, blah blah. Dave can do it himself, but he's pretty sure that Eridan is a control freak, so whatever.

"Sure there is." Dave says, doing his best to sound bored. "How else am I supposed to make Molotov's to chuck at people?

  
  


God dammit. That gets through to Eridan. Catching him off-guard, that stupid joke, utilizing a reference Eridan actually  _ understands _ , elicits a chuckle out of the seadweller. Immediately, he realizes what happened. The chuckle transitions into a clearing of his throat, attempting to cover it up.

"Wwhatevver you say," Eridan replies, pouring some body wash into his hands.

His hands run back down Dave's back, coating his scarred skin with suds and pressing his fingers into Dave's muscles. It's part back-scrub, part massage as he works his way down past the surface of the water, his hands pressing lower and lower down Dave's back. With the way Dave is sitting in the tub, Eridan can't quite get to his rear in this positioning, but he pushes that concern aside for now. He instead focuses on simply washing every inch of Dave's back—the back of his neck, his shoulder blades, down his spine.

  
  


Dave feels his heart....  _ lurch _ slightly as Eridan honest-to-fucking-god  _ chuckles _ .

He's still trying to catch his breath as Eridan dismisses his words, trying to cover up his laugh.

Fighting, then? That would make sense, the guy probably doesn't hear much humor when it comes to his job. It's probably a refreshing change. Congrats, Dave, you've found a possible chink in the armor.

"I do say so." Dave says, and then Eridan's hands are on his back. He bites back a groan as Eridan's hands press against his muscles. Fuck, that feels good. "You know how people a-are, all repressed and shit- gotta make the sacrifice of my own emotions to free everyone else's."

  
  


"Hm," Eridan says, cupping water in his hands to pour across Dave's suds-soaked back. "Perhaps I just need to find a wway to open you up."

Eridan leans forward, his voice a low whisper once more as he washes away the soap.

" _ More than I already havve, at least. _ "

He pulls back, pouring more body wash into his hands. He works under the surface as best as he can, trying to wash over Dave's thighs and legs. It isn't very effective, given the soap mostly washing away after under the surface, but it gives yet another excuse for him to feel up Dave's body, to trace over his skin in delicate examination of the human in his possession.

  
  


Dave can't stop the inhale, sharp and sucked through his teeth, as Eridan whispers, low and husky in his ear. He can feel his ass tightening almost in reflex, his gut giving a phantom ache of pleasure at the memory of being pounded open and forced to cockwarm for Eridan.

Fuck. God dammit. Now is  _ not _ the time for his dick to be getting interested in what's going on.

Dave  _ knows _ that if he tries to say anything his voice will shake, so he stays silent as Eridan works his hands over Dave's thighs, his heart pounding and gut clenching, feeling like he's going to be sick because his dick just keeps getting more and more interested, his thighs slowly parting open under Eridan's firm, almost  _ loving _ touch. The only thing he can focus on is just fucking  _ breathing _ , his eyes squeezed shut.

  
  


Dave's inhales, tensing up, and thighs parting are all picked up by Eridan as he continues to trace his fingers against Dave's skin. Oh, now that's definitely a good sign. Eridan's hands drift up Dave's thighs, brushing ever-so-slightly against Dave's cock in a teasing gesture. After the brief brush, he pulls his hands up out of the water, reaching for a nearby washcloth.

"Mm, not yet. Havve to wwash myself off first," Eridan whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of Dave's ear. And with that, he shifts Dave forward in the tub, giving him room to wet his hair once more.

Eridan makes quick work of his own hair, lathering shampoo around his horns and through his black and violet hair. A dunk forward, and he's onto the conditioner.

  
  


Fuck,  _ fuck _ \- god dammit, this fucking bastard- Dave  _ hates _ the way that his breath catches and his heart jumps as his cock is brushed- only to be denied and nudged forwards so that Eridan can wash.

Dave fists his hands on his knees, swallowing thickly as the sounds of Eridan washing up can be heard behind him- but all he can do is breathe steadily, trying to fucking  _ control himself _ .

God. He's a fucking embarrassment to humanity- to his  _ Brother. _ Trembling and turned on just from a bit of light touching- there's no fucking way that Bro would ever crumble this easily- and that  _ burns _ at him, stabs at him, but he can't stop the aching desire for Eridan to come back and  _ touch him more _ .

  
  


Eridan is blissfully unaware of the depths of Dave's mental crisis happening only a few feet in front of him as he works the conditioner into his hair. He hums quietly under his breath, dipping forward to wash the conditioner from his hair. Time for the body wash.

"Gonna need you to wwash my back to get the spots I can't reach," Eridan says, turning himself around in the tub.

His hands move up to cover his gills. No way for Dave to try and rip them off or pour soap in them—and no way to choke him out now with Eridan's own hands protectively covering his neck. In the event that Dave tries something else...Well, Eridan is rather confident in his own ability to respond to such an attack.

"Don't try anything stupid."

  
  


Eridan gives him his back.

Eridan  _ gives him his back _ .

The Commander of the fucking alien invasion is deliberately turning away and giving Dave an opportunity to attack.

_ Do it. Grab his hair. Slam his head into the tub you can kill him. _

_ No, it has to be a trap. There's no way he would do this. _

_ What trap? He's unarmed, alone- you can strike now! _

_ No, I can't. If I fuck this up, I won't get another chance. I can let him bring his guard down and get a better one. _

_ What better one? _

Dave picks up the body wash and pours some out.

_ What better one??? He's under your hands, vulnerable. _

Dave starts rubbing the body wash over Eridan's back.

That's pathetic, Lil' Man. Bro's voice in his ears almost makes him flinch. Just giving in like that? Going belly up?

_ It's not like that. _ Dave things desperately.  _ I need a better chance, a better opportunity to kill him. _

Pathetic. Dave squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to hear the scorn in Bro's voice as he washes Eridan's back. It's all in his head. It's  _ all in his head _ .

  
  


Eridan looks back at Dave over his shoulder, noticing...Dave's eyes squeezed shut?

Huh.

Whatever is going on with Dave is quickly brushed away by Dave's fingers pressing into Eridan's skin, working into his muscles.  _ Fuck _ . It feels so good. Eridan doesn't even bother trying to hold back the deep, low chitter he emits out of pure instinct. He doesn't stop the light flutter of his fins either.

The entire set of circumstances seems almost too good to be true. Dave's fingers working into his body, the warm water further relaxing his muscles, and...absolutely nothing from Dave. He didn't try to pull Eridan's hands from his neck and attack his gills. He didn't try and tackle Eridan into the water. He didn't even resist the order with a complaint or a quip or a retort or a refusal.

No. Dave simply complied with the order he was given.

  
  


Dave forces himself not to think at all, instead focusing on the press of his hands into Eridan's back. He works at the skin under his hands, the rhythm washing motions giving him something to focus on to drown on the words in his head.

God. He really is pathetic, huh? Not even making an  _ attempt _ .

His touch makes Eridan make  _ some _ kind of noise- it sounds pleased? Maybe? Dave can't really tell, but he absolutely catches the fluttering of Eridan's fins. He digs his fingers in a little hard, working over the muscles properly and it's  _ just _ to drag this out, to give himself more time to think about attacking, that's why,  _ shut the hell up, brain _ -

He should do it. He can't. He  _ can't _ , but he should, right? Fuck, Dave doesn't  _ know _ , he's all fucking twisted up inside. He's tangled up and he just needs a goddamn moment to sort himself out but he knows it'll never come, knows that the Commander will keep him off balance forever until he  _ breaks _ .

Dave's terrified of that day. He doesn't want to break- but he knows that he will. He just  _ knows _ and the idea fucking burns at him, fills him with self-hatred and spite.

  
  


The vibrating in Eridan's chest, the chittering, grows louder as Dave presses his fingers deeper into Eridan's back, working into his sore muscles in an amazingly soothing manner. It's been ages since Eridan had experienced something like this, probably back when he visited one of the conquered Alternian colonies for a visit. But this...Dave's completely amateur hand motions, the absolutely improvised situation, and the circumstances surrounding this are completely different. Completely intoxicating for a power trip.

It had been just barely a week, and here Dave was. Already obeying  _ his _ Commander.

Eridan turns around, facing forward to look into Dave's eyes. He keeps his hands covered over his gills, but he lifts his arms up slightly to give more access to his armpits and sides. Under the surface of the water, his bulge slowly, lazily writhes in the water, a reaction to the sheer pleasure from Dave's tender touches.

"Go ahead and handle the front too, wwhile wwe're at it."

  
  


Dave grits his teeth as Eridan voices his clear enjoyment at the situation, and looks away as he turns back around. Fucking bastard.

_ You wasted your chance, you fucking idiot. _ The voice whispers.

Dave meets Eridan's gaze as he smugly orders Dave to keep going. He doesn't say anything, just pours more wash into his fucking hands. For the first time in his life, he feels like his words have all dried up. What the fuck is he supposed to say? 'Sir yes sir'? 'Why yes, let me prostate myself before you, oh great alien invader'?

Fuck. Dave would really actually like to just stop breathing right now. Especially because he can feel the heat settling into his cheeks and he is fucking trying so hard to just keep it together.

And of course, because the bastard is enjoying this so much, his dick's out. Why wouldn't it be. Dave resolves to ignore this as he just starts washing down Eridan's front.

  
  


Eridan cracks a smile, an unusual sight on the typically cold exterior of the stoic commander. It's an arrogant smile, one knowing exactly the kind of dilemma going on in Dave's head. Maybe not the specifics, but Eridan  _ knew _ his continued manipulation and exploitation of Dave's unstable emotional state was having the intended effects.

Oh. And those warming, rosy cheeks on Dave's face only gives it away even more.

Eridan deliberately avoids looking down at his bulge or drawing attention there, wanting any of Dave's glances to be on the human's own accords rather than a reaction to Eridan looking down. Instead, he simply closes his eyes, chittering softly now as Dave washes down the front of his body.

  
  


The Commander is fucking  _ smirking _ and Dave wants to fucking throttle him, but- god. He's so fucking stupid. He wasted his fucking chance and now a hollow pit of self-hatred and regret is opening up in his stomach. God  _ dammit _ .

Whatever. What the fuck ever, if the Commander thinks he's broken in, then he'll let his guard down more. Dave  _ will _ get another chance, he will.

So Dave yanks together his fractured composure and focuses on just washing the bastard off.

.....maybe he can just grab his dick and rip it off. That'd serve him right, right?

"You know." Dave muses, as he washes down the Commander's sides. "This is very very very homoerotic."

  
  


"Do you havve a problem wwith that?" Eridan asked, reaching over to grab the body soap. He sets it aside with the shampoo and conditioner, out of Dave's reach now that Eridan is satisfied with the body wash Dave had given him. His hands reach forward to grab Dave's hips, turning him around once more and pulling him back between his legs.

Eridan's face presses against the back of Dave's head, breathing in the smell of the freshly applied hair product. His hands run down Dave's sides, trailing down to his inner thighs once more. Now, however, it's not a mere brush of a hand. Instead, Eridan slowly wraps a hand around Dave's cock, beginning to stroke it slowly underneath the water.

“Is it  _ too _ homoerotic?" Eridan asks in that low whisper of his, before dipping down to press a kiss to the back of Dave's neck.

  
  


"Nah, no fucking pro-LEM-" Dave can't stop the surprised noise as he's summarily hauled around and pulled back into place, back to Eridan's front.

He shudders at the feeling of Eridan pressing up behind him, of Eridan's  _ thick fucking dick _ (holy shit how did that thing fit inside him) pressing up against his ass and lower back.

Eridan runs his hands over Dave, breathing with his nose pressed against the back of Dave's head, but this time he goes for it- he just straight up grabs Dave's dick and Dave chokes on his breath at the touch. The worst part is that it feels  _ good _ , the slow sensual touch making him want to drop his head back and moan.

He won't though, but he shudders at the kiss. "Nothing wrong with- a little bit of- homoerotic tension-" He manages. "Unless you invaders are- homophobic too-"

  
  


It's all so...adorable. Dave's little yelp, his shudders, his choked breaths—he feels so vulnerable like this in Eridan's hands, like he's teetering on the edge of giving into the pleasurable touches Eridan traces over his body. Eridan can't help it when his bulge writhes against Dave's ass and lower back, twisting and grinding itself against Dave's skin.

"Some are, some aren't," Eridan replies, his thumb slowly stroking over the head of Dave's cock.

" _ I'm not _ ," he whispers, pressing another kiss against Dave's neck.

Slowly, he begins to build a rhythm of strokes, beginning to hold a steady pace of pumps of his hand around the shaft of Dave's member. His own bulge continues to writhe in a sheer need, but Eridan does his best to ignore it. It's time to focus on his prisoner right now.

  
  


Dave locks his teeth on a shuddering exhale as Eridan whispers and kisses his neck. His hand on Dave's cock feels stupid good, cool and relaxed and every time that it strokes over his Dave wants to shudder.

Fuck-  _ fuck- _ Eridan's bulge is rubbing against his back and Dave gets the distinct feeling that this is what grinding feels like for these aliens.

"Goo-od for you," Dave manages, his voice remarkably steady for what is happening, "being all- progressive n' sh _ it _ -" He shudders a little, legs jerking.

Eridan moves his head down Dave's neck to his shoulders, nipping as gently as possible with those sharp teeth of his. He sucks at Dave's skin, leaving marks as he continues to pump his fist along the length of Dave's hardening cock. Eridan lifts his head up slightly, pressing a gentle kiss against one of the new marks left on Dave's sensitive skin.

"God, you must be so wworried right noww. Wworried I'm gonna do it again, huh?" Eridan asked, lightly squeezing Dave's member. "Wworried you're gonna havve to take my bulge again, here and noww?"

A soft chuckle came from Eridan as he resumed his strokes, picking up the pace. The slow but steady pace is now quicker, more rapid as he jerks Dave off in the tub.

"You don't havve to wworry about that. For noww."

  
  


Dave hisses at the nips, his toes curling before he forces them to relax, his dick all the way hard. Each suck is a jolt of pleasure down his spine- but he can't do anything but breathe roughly.

As Eridan kisses a mark, Dave feels his eyes flutter shut. There's a throbbing, hollow ache in his belly at the reminder of being fucked open, his ass clenching with  _ need _ .

Eridan jerks him harder, faster, and the clench of his fist makes Dave tremble. He drops his head back on Eridan's shoulder, turning his face away from the violet troll as his eyes squeeze shut, brow furrowing. His hands are pressing against the sides of the tub, trying to find something to ground himself with, but all he can feel is the press of Eridan's cool skin against his own, the hand around his cock- and the hollow, throbbing need in his belly.

"Th-hanks." Dave manages, his breathing staggered. "I'd- hate to g- hhah- get a bath water enema-hh-" He should probably stop talking. "Hah- so f _ uu _ cking consi-derate of- hah- of you-"

  
  


Eridan moves his other hand around as well, reaching under Dave's cock to cup his balls. He resumes his nipping and sucking, trailing along Dave's shoulders and over his neck. This is more than just a heat of the moment action for Eridan.

He's marking up his property.

"Howw's it feel, Davve?" Eridan asks against Dave's skin, planting soft kisses over the plethora of marks littering Dave's shoulders and neck. "You like howw this feels, don't you? So needy and desperate for touches, you'll take it from  _ me _ , wwon't you?"

  
  


Dave laughs weakly, hissing softly at the nips and sucks- fuck, he is going to have  _ such _ an array of marks, fuck- he can feel it- Eridan is fucking  _ possessive. _

That thought should really really not make his dick throb and his dick is a fucking  _ traitor _ for it.

"F-uuck, well, hah- you clearly donn't kno _ w _ me- I'll fuck pre- pretty much anything- hah- so-"

Fuck-  _ fuck _ , Eridan is not wrong and that's the most humiliating part, is that Dave  _ does _ crave the soft touches, so terribly terribly much that even when they're from his worst enemy who  _ killed his fucking Bro _ they're still making him tremble and fall apart.

  
  


The hand on Dave's cock picks up its pace once more, now rapidly pounding Dave's cock while Eridan's other hand continues to slowly, teasingly fondle Dave's balls. He adjusts his own legs, pressing the inside of his legs against the outside of Dave's, locking him into place in the bathtub.

“C'mon, be good for me and tell me wwhen you're about to spill," Eridan orders, his bulge's writhes against Dave's ass and back becoming more erratic.

  
  


Eridan jerks him harder-  _ faster _ , at a pace that has Dave breathing heavily through his nose- and fuck, his hands are fondling and teasing his balls and  _ that's _ really fucking good and he really really really

Can't.

Hold back.

Like fucking  _ hell _ is he going to say anything- he's going to fucking cum and if Eridan wants to hear that he is, then too  _ bad. _ He can't stop the arching, though, the wet gasp from his throat as his balls draw up, his fingers clutching at the walls of the bath, he's gonna cum,  _ he's- _

  
  


Dave's arch, the gasp, the twitch of his balls, it's all incredibly obvious to Eridan. Dave was about to finish.  _ About _ being the operative word. The hand on Dave's balls pulls back, and Eridan's other hand firmly tightens around the base of Dave's cock, holding it in an iron grip.

"It's much too soon for that, Davve," Eridan whispers in that low tone, slowly letting go of Dave's dick.

Eridan's hands go straight for Dave's, clamping them down against the walls of the bathtub. He can't have Dave finishing himself off, after all. Eridan sits still, watching Dave's body, listening intently to his noises. The second half of their evening was about to begin, but Eridan decides to relish every last bit of squirming and anguish from Dave before moving on.

  
  


_ No, _ that  _ bastard _ \- Dave was about to  _ cum _ and he fucking grabs him tight, stops him from cumming, a weak, choked noise tearing from his throat.

"F- _ fuck _ \- youu-" He gasps, hips trying to buck, but the grip is too tight and it  _ hurts _ , forcing him down from the edge.

Eridan lets go and immediately pins his hands so that Dave can't even try and touch himself, he has to gasp and squirm and grit his teeth in the most helpless, undignified of manners, trying to get anything,  _ anything _ to touch him, hips jolting, but there's nothing and it's  _ torture _ . It's just wet. Nothing for him to touch and after a couple of moments of this he slumps, panting wetly, legs trembling against Eridan's, dick  _ throbbing _ , eyes closed as his head falls back onto Eridan's shoulder again.

"Fuck you-" He breathes shakily. "You fucking-  _ bastard _ -"

  
  


"I'vve heard wworse," Eridan replies, a smug grin on his face as he shifts Dave around in the tub to face one another once more.

Eridan reaches behind himself, fumbling with the drain. The tub slowly begins to empty, but Eridan remains put, pulling Dave into yet another kiss. Just as Eridan nipped along Dave's shoulders and neck, he uses his teeth to tug at, bite, and tease Dave's lower lip. He doesn't go overboard, just enough to hopefully further infuriate Dave and his twitching, needy cock.

"C'mon, let's get outta here and ready for bed."


	5. Chapter 5

Eridan pulls him around to kiss him again as the bath starts to drain and Dave feels a rough moan bubbling up in his throat. He slams that fucker down, but his dick is still fucking  _ aching _ , throbbing needily and jerking in the water.

Each little nip and tug  _ throbs _ in his gut, heady and making his head spin, but he finds himself leaning in as Eridan pulls back, only to catch himself at the last moment.

_ Bed. _ His ass clenches at the thought of getting fucked into the sheets, and he  _ hates _ that it sends a throb through his belly.

"Fine." He says, meaning for it to be annoyed and short, but instead it comes out shaky.

  
  


Eridan steadies himself on the walls of the tub, lifting himself up to his feet and out of the bathtub. Putting in a bit of elbow grease, Eridan pulls Dave to stand up as well. He grabs the two towels nearby and tosses one to Dave. His eyes watch Dave closely, thriving on Dave's discomfort, annoyance, and  _ need _ as he rubs the towel over his wet skin to dry off.

Eridan dresses up in his pajamas, patiently waiting for Dave to finish drying off.

"Get your pajamas on, I assume you're in a hurry to be taken care of."

  
  


Dave gets yanked up out of the tub and he finds his balance, toweling himself off as he gives the Commander an irritated look. He resists his first quip, which is  _ I'll take care of you _ , then his second, which is  _ keep your britches on, I'll be ready when I'm ready _ , to settle on saying,

"I dunno, I think the quality of the pajamas severely lessen the dressing experience." It's a musing drawl as he tugs them on. "1/5 stars, would recommend different tailor."

  
  


Eridan smooths out the light and scarce wrinkles in his pajamas, quickly glancing himself over in the mirror. A quick brushing back of his hair, and he's ready to go. He turns around, approaching Dave beside the tub. It's a pretty standard routine now: collar clacked around his neck, cuffs clicked around his wrists, switch in Eridan's hand for good measure.

"Wwe both knoww you're bein' difficult for the sake a' bein' difficult here. You'vve nevver had anything quite this high quality back on Earth, an' wwe both knoww it," Eridan replies.

The comment is left to hang in the air as Eridan quiets himself, beginning to lead Dave back into the bedroom from the bathroom. One rough shove later, and Dave is face down on the bed, hands beneath him as Eridan clambers on the bed and joins him.

  
  


Collared back up, as expected- Dave just lets it happen, but not without a, "oh, please. When have I  _ ever _ made it easy on anyone?"

Aaaaand yup, down on the bed he goes with another shove.

"You know," Dave complains, as the Commander climbs onto the bed after him, "what is the fucking point of putting pajamas on if you're just going to tear them right off again?"

  
  


Eridan sits up in bed and shifts Dave to lay face down across Eridan's legs. His hands begin squeezing and groping at Dave's ass through the thin silk of the pajamas. Eridan's bulge writhes underneath Dave, so eager and ready for another round.

Not now, not tonight.

"Wwho said anything about tearing 'em off?" Eridan asked, slowly pulling Dave's pajama bottoms down to the mid-thighs of Dave's legs.

  
  


The Commander tugs Dave around to lay him across his lap and Dave can only think  _ are you fucking serious? _

He can feel the Commander's dick pressing up along his belly, shifting in that weird, alien way- is it like a fucking dog's tail, wagging when the Commander is excited? Ha, pun intended.

But the Commander gropes at his ass, tugging his pajama bottoms down. Dave rolls his eyes and just braces his elbows on his bed. "Gee, a technicality, I suppose saying  _ tearing them off _ is clearly inadequate to explain what you're doing.  _ Slowly tugging down _ , my  _ sincerest _ apologies for misrepresenting your actions."

  
  


"Apology accepted," Eridan coldly replies, tugging Dave's boxer-briefs down to join his bottoms. "I meant  _ I'm _ not gonna be tearin'  _ mine _ off."

Eridan focuses intensely on Dave, watching for any sign of disappointment or annoyance or frustration. A sign that Dave's body needed to be filled by his bulge. He was being honest here. He had no intention of tossing his pajamas aside to fuck Dave open. Instead, he simply let his hands roam over Dave's bare ass, roughly kneading the soft rear in his hands.

A hand was raised above his head, swiftly coming down on Dave's ass with a loud smack.

"I wwas planning on doin' this earlier, but you had to go and get yourself knocked out. So you made me wwait for this."

There's a second spank, coming down harder than the first.

  
  


Dave drops his head with a roll of his eyes, jerking at the first slap- fucking figures that the bastard would spank him, he's really fucking into that  _ humiliating Dave _ shit and this is just another tool on the list.

It stings, the pain blooming across his ass- but he holds back any fucking noise because fuck that.

"Gee, I'm soo terribly sorry." Dave drawls sarcastically. The second hit is harder, the muscles of his legs jumping in response. "I live to produce minor inconveniences."

  
  


"Another apology accepted," Eridan muses, swiftly bringing his hand down in a third spank. He's done his reading on interpreting human sarcasm, he can tell Dave wasn't earnestly apologizing. But that didn't matter to Eridan. Besides, Eridan believes playing it straight is hopefully more likely to make Dave begin to perceive it as serious as well.

His hand lingers after making contact with Dave's ass, fingers sinking into Dave's soft skin, groping at his rear. It feels so good, so perfectly soft and round, so receptive to Eridan's touch. Dave's jumping, jerking, and twitching is the cherry on top, falling apart under Eridan's dominance over him. Eridan's hand doesn't squeeze and grope for too long. He still has punishment to deliver, after all.

Another spank, this time on Dave's other cheek, just for good measure.

  
  


Great, the Commander is playing it straight. There goes like. Half of his snippy comments-

The hand on his ass makes him go stiff, the fingers massaging over tingling flesh, and he can't help the tiny jerk of his hips away, pressing more into the Commander's lap.

He grits his teeth and stays silent- and yeah, fuck, there's another smack on the other cheek, making him jerk.

He's not going to give in to this stupid, childish punishment. This teasing. His dick is just hard because of being denied in the bath. That's all it is.

  
  


Oh, and there's Dave pushing himself down into Eridan's lap. Well, if he insists...

Eridan raises a leg slightly, applying pressure upward against Dave's downward jerks, creating friction between his pajama-clad thigh and Dave's stiff cock. He brings his hand down in another sharp spank, pressing his thigh harder against Dave's dick. His hand lingers, pushing Dave further downward against his thigh.

Eridan is enjoying this experience, but there is yet another annoyance created by Dave's stubbornness.

"Wwhat's wwrong? Awwfully quiet right noww, no noises or sounds," Eridan teased, fingers kneading Dave's ass. "It's disappointing."

He wasn't lying either. The noises Dave could make, the noises Eridan had  _ heard _ Dave make while pounding him into the sheets were music to his ears. Now, however, Dave was silent, depriving his superior of those beautiful noises.

  
  


The Commander presses his leg up against Dave's dick because  _ of fucking course he does _ , but Dave just takes in and lets out a slow breath.

Another spank has his hips jerking forwards and  _ fuck him _ if it doesn't feel good, his dick rubbing against the Commander's thigh, firm under him with the soft glide of the pajamas smoothing it.

Well, the Commander doesn't want him to be silent, huh? Guess who's on a one way train to mute town, fuckerssssss.

So he grits his teeth a little harder and breathes a bit deeper, ready for whatever rain of punishment the Commander settles on giving him.

  
  


Hm. That's a shame. It seems like Eridan is going to need to change his strategy if he wants to properly torment Dave. That shouldn't be too difficult. However, Eridan holds off on his new idea. Instead, he continues his firm gropes and squeezes.

He raises his hand again, delivering another spank. And another. He alternates between Dave's cheeks, delivering a strong flurry of sharp spanks, unrelenting and impatient with his pace. All the while, Eridan rocks his thigh upward in sync with the spankings, grinding his silky pajamas against Dave's leaking dick.

"God, you're trying so hard to keep that trap shut, huh?" Eridan asks, kneading Dave's reddening flesh. "Just gonna make the inevvitable submission all the more enjoyable. And vvaluable."

  
  


Fuckfuckfuck- Dave grips his hands together as blow after blow lands on his ass. Each hit forces him to jerk forwards and  _ that _ rubs his dick against the Commander's thigh, but the each hit reverberating through his body sends a deep ache into his gut.

Fuck this. Fuck, he's not going to fucking fall to this, this is nothing. He laces his fingers together and just focuses on breathing, his thighs tensing and twitching as his dick is ground against and-

_ F-uuuck _ does it feel good.... Dave can't lie- every single slap is going right to his fucking dick.

The kneading of his ass over his throbbing flesh almost makes him gasp- but he turns it into a long inhale instead, stubbornly refusing to say a single word.

  
  


Eridan moves his hands to Dave's waist, shifting him around on the bed. With Dave's hands cuffed together beneath him, it makes Eridan's job all the easier as he positions Dave on his knees with his upper body pressing into the sheets. The positioning is nearly identical to the one he put Dave in a few nights ago, but he has a different idea in mind.

His hands spread Dave's ass open, leaning in to drag his cool tongue flat across Dave's hole. Normally this sort of treatment for prisoners would be completely beneath Eridan, not even entering his mind for consideration. For Dave, however, this might be exactly what Eridan needs to break his will tonight. After sustained pain and punishment from harsh spanking, perhaps a sudden jolt of sheer pleasure can catch the human off-guard. Eridan decided it was a strategy worth pursuing, and now here he is.

It's so foreign to Eridan, doing something like this. But if it means breaking someone...He gives another lick, listening intently for any noises from Dave.

  
  


Alright, fuck, what's next? Dave is hauled around on the bed. Did the Commander get tired? Is he done with his pathetic slapping? Come on, Bro gave worse than that when he was  _ bedridden _ .

Yeah, this position feels familiar, Dave guesses it's fucking time. He did good enough to not talk during the spanking so the Commander just gave up trying to get a reaction so nowwWW WHAT THE  _ FUCK _ -

Dave chokes on his breath as  _ wet _ and  _ cold _ slide up between his cheeks and  _ wow _ that is not Eridan's dick- that is a lot smaller and weirder and- a choked little gasp falls from his mouth, unable to stop it as a desperate, toe-curling pleasure lances up his spine.

Eridan is fucking  _ eating him out _ . Dave is going to fucking  _ die _ .

  
  


Eridan can't help the smirk that tugs at his lips as he hears Dave's gasps and sputtered breaths. Not only were the noises so beautiful to his ears, it meant that Eridan had won yet another victory over Dave. All of that resisting, the fighting back, the attempts to maintain his dignity...fell apart as Eridan toyed with his victim. This new detour had done its job. Eridan gives one more long, slow lick, ignoring the pit of disgust in his stomach at what he's doing to a filthy land-dwelling human.

Eridan considers pulling away to resume the spanking, but he decides to add one last touch. He spits on Dave's hole, rubbing his saliva into it with the pads of his fingers, teasing Dave with the cool saliva and his prodding fingertips. He doesn't go any farther, pulling back and shifting Dave back onto his lap.

There isn't any grace period for Dave to adjust. A hand comes down just as swift as before, spanking Dave again. Now that Eridan had broken Dave's initial resistance, the commander aimed to work more of those lovely noises out of him.

“I'vve already heard you tonight, no more point in holding back. You'vve already lost."

  
  


Eridan is fucking winning and Eridan knows it and  _ Dave _ knows it and  _ Eridan knows that Dave knows it _ . Dave's losing. He needs to regain his ground or keep his dignity or fight and buck and try to kick Eridan's face in.

Dave doesn't do any of this because Eridan's spit lands on his sole and then he's  _ rubbing it in _ and the touch makes Dave arch and hes grabbing at the sheeks, trying to regain his equilibrium-

_ smack- _

Dave seizes and  _ moans _ , low and desperate, his cock  _ throbbing _ from the hit. Humiliated tears burn in his eyes.

_ Fuck- 'M sorry Bro, I can't- _

He can't. He fucking can't. Was it pointless all along? Was the fight for humanity fruitless? He's fallen so easily, been broken down so fucking ruthlessly and without mercy and now he's  _ lost. _

  
  


Eridan  _ laughs _ . It's a soft, low chuckle, but he laughs at Dave's sheer desperation, his need, his pathetic state of being. At the same time, his bulge pushes upward against his pajama pants, tenting in the fabric and prodding against Dave's underside.

"There wwe go," he muses, rubbing his hand against the reddened flesh. "That's all I wwanted."

Well, a bit of hyperbole there. It wasn't  _ all _ he wanted, of course. Eridan brings his hand down again, right on the same spot as before. He lets his hand linger, firmly groping and kneading the flesh with his hands, listening to the human laying over his legs.

  
  


Dave wants to choke back his noises, wants to be silent and stoic and manly and get through this torture, but Eridan doesn't give him the chance, bringing his hand cracking down on the same spot.

"Hn- ghhhhahh-" Dave gasps, his body spasming under the blow. " _ Fuck _ -" he bites out, squeezing his eyes shut.

Because even as the blow hurt, the blow  _ stung like crazy- _

His dick fucking  _ throbbed _ at the hit. Dave can feel the wet stain on his front from how fucking much his dick is leaking. His face is so goddamn hot, a heady, thick humiliation making his gut churn, but his dick is so fucking hard it's  _ so fucking hard- _

Dave's fucked. He's so so so  _ fucked _ .

  
  


"I hope you're learnin' your lesson," Eridan coos, lightly tracing his fingers over the red welts forming on Dave's rear.

Another raise of his hand, and Eridan brings it down once more. This time, however, he makes sure to push his thigh upward once more, grinding into Dave's leaking cock. He doesn't give Dave any time to adjust, resuming the rapid flurry of spanks, timed to upward pushes of his thigh. Dave's gasps, moans, and barely-coherent curses are music to Eridan's ears, complementing the loud cracks of his hand coming down against Dave's ass.

"God, you're a fuckin' wwreck."

  
  


_ Smack _ \- Eridan's thigh pushes up against him at the same time and Dave couldn't hold himself back if he  _ tried _ . His eyes are burning so he squeezes them shut as he jerks, his dick shoving against the firm, unyeilding thigh underneath him, a  _ painfully _ delicious grind.

" _ Gh- huh- _ "

Eridan doesn't rub his ass this time, oh no, this time he just  _ rains _ blows down on Dave's ass. Each spank  _ hurts _ , making Dave gasp and jolt and his hips buck and squirm, but each movement only rubs his dick  _ more _ against Eridan's thigh, only makes each following spank feel  _ even better _ because his ass is throbbing and hot and sensitive and each blow  _ jolts _ through him like a lightning strike, cutting through his self control like a hot knife through butter.

_ Melting _ it away.

"Ggu-"  _ crack _ "fu- huh- _ kk _ -"  _ crack _ "nn-nnh uh-"  _ crack, crack _ "GAH- hah-  _ hahh- _ -"  _ crack _ "uh-hhhuh-"

Tears of pain and  _ pleasure _ are rolling down his cheeks, his feet sliding on the bed, he doesn't know if he's trying to push up into the hits or down into Eridan's thigh but it's too good, it's too good, it's so much, he can't-

A  _ painfully _ hard smack has his entire body tensing and a howling  _ "FUCK-" _ tearing from his throat as he arches and seizes, an orgasm  _ racing _ through him, the best fucking orgasm he's ever had, lighting up every single fucking nerve and sparking through his brain, turning it into mindless pleasure, sharper than a knife's edge, cutting him apart and consuming him entirely, tears rolling down his face as his hips jerk and shove against Eridan's thigh.

The humiliation  _ burns _ through him as he goes limp, trembling and outright sobbing. Eridan is right- he's a fucking wreck. He's a traitor to humanity, he's a disappointment to Bro, he's worthless, unworthy of being a Champion of humanity.

Because, as his ass throbs and tears pour down his face- all he can think is  _ more- _

  
  


The screeched profanity was enough of a clue as to what was about to happen, but the overwhelming  _ dampness _ of his silk pajamas was confirmation. Dave was spilling his load over Eridan's thigh, stimulated solely by some upward grinds and more than a few firm spanks. Dave  _ broke _ .

A smile is on Eridan's face as he gingerly turns Dave over onto his back on the sheets, trying his best not to irritate Dave's rear now. Instead, he reaches up with his hands, thumbing Dave's streaming tears off of his cheeks.

"Shhhhhh, shhh. It's okay, you're just acceptin' wwhat you are," Eridan replied, leaning in to press a soft, short kiss to Dave's lips. He scattered a few more kisses over Dave's wet face, watching as the human sobbed like a pathetic mess.

_ It would be so easy to do it right now _ , Eridan realizes. Dave's will is shattered, his mind overrun with pain and pleasure. There would be such little resistance to it. All he'd have to do is go and grab his—

No. That could wait until tomorrow, he decides. Instead, he reaches down to his own lower half, peeling his now-stained pajama pants from his legs. He uses them like a makeshift rag, wiping up Dave's dick before tossing them onto the floor. He peels Dave's pants off from around his trembling legs, letting them join the pile of discarded clothes.

"Let's get some rest, Davve," Eridan says, voice cold.

Eridan handles Dave like fragile goods, but nonetheless pulls him in as he lays down. Dave's back is pressed up against his chest, an arm draped over Dave, holding him in tightly.

  
  


Dave can't stop,  _ can't stop _ the tears pouring down his face, can't stop the terrible, terrible hitching of his breath as he gasps and Eridan turns him over and wipes his tears and  _ croons _ to him about how it's okay, how Dave's just  _ accepting what he is _ and there's some part of him that's dying, thats curling up and wilting but there's another tiny little seed that's whispering  _ 'please-' _

Eridan kisses him light and gentle and sweet and Dave's heart breaks all over again, this is what his life is going to be like from now on, he's a  _ toy _ for Eridan's amusement.

Eridan kisses his face all over and Dave keeps his eyes shut, his heart  _ aching _ terribly, his hands shaking, but he doesn't pull away.

Eridan cleans them up and his voice is cold again as he maneuvers Dave around and then they're spooning again. Dave is still trembling as Eridan curls his arm around him, holds him close- and he hates himself even more at the  _ relief _ of being held, shame and guilt and a painful  _ weariness _ all churning through him.

Dave doesn't know if it would be better or worse right not if Eridan fucks him. He can't bring himself to care.

_ Aren't you tired? _ Something whispers in his head, traitorously.  _ Why are you still fighting? What's the point? You won't win. You've already lost. These are your death throws. _

Dave keeps his eyes shut and tries not to think, still shaking slightly as he cries, almost silently now that he's started catching his breath. Eridan's arm around him is a terrible, terrible comfort.

When was the last time he got this much physical contact.... if ever? He fell  _ so fucking easily _ to it that he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want to think anymore. Dave just wants to sleep forever and never face his shame.

  
  


Eridan doesn't bother with burying himself in Dave, but he does take some steps to ensure any movements from Dave will wake him up. With an arm looped over Dave, holding him in, he tucks his hand between Dave's side and the sheets. His chest is pressed directly against Dave's back, the tented bulge in his underwear pressing against Dave's bare ass. With all the contact between them, Eridan feels every tremble, every quiver, every small little shake of emotional distress.

A smile comes to his face as he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Dave's neck.

"Get some rest. Got a long day tomorroww," Eridan whispered.

Eridan dozes off rather easily, satisfied with another day with his prisoner. Today had shown the most progress since Dave was captured, and it seemed like things were only going to get better from here.

Well, better for Eridan, of course.

  
  


Eridan curls tight around Dave and Dave knows that he won't be allowed to move even an inch without Eridan waking.

He's trapped. Helpless. Just like he's always been- only this time he  _ knows _ it. Knows there's no hope for him. Knows that this is his life forever. Just a toy for Eridan's amusement. There was no point resisting from the start- because it would always end this way.

Dave feels a few more hot tears slide down his cheeks, his breathing still stuttered. He's not sure  _ when _ he falls asleep, but eventually he must because his dreams are filled with a dizzying blur of desperate emotion and color and sensation that has him violently jerking awake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.

His chest heaves as he tries to figure out what panic is racing through his veins, held tight in an embrace that is as  _ protective _ as it is smothering- and Dave feels something rise up in his chest that makes his eyes burn, heartsick and lonely and knowing that there is nothing else in the rest of his life but this.

  
  


Eridan sleeps like a baby, drifting off to be comforted by sweet dreams. All familiar sights: the schooner, the Alternian waves, his  _ first mate _ ...it feels so vivid and warm, like he can actually feel the salty water hitting his face from the wind or the violent shakes of stray waves—

Dave's bodily jerk wakes Eridan up too, immediately tightening the grip his arm has around Dave's midriff, pulling Dave closer. At first, he thinks it's another escape attempt or violent retaliation. As he listens to Dave's quick, heaving breaths, however, he realizes it's just Dave still trying to cope with what's happened.

Normally, Eridan would relish this panic and distress from one of his enemies. Now, however, he just wants to get back to sleep. He has to save up his energy for the coming day, and that meant as much sleep and rest as possible.

"C'mon, sleep. 's okay," Eridan sleepily mumbles against Dave's neck. "You just need sleep."

  
  


Eridan's words are soft and reassuring, mumbled against Dave's neck. He squeezes his eyes shut, hating the way the words  _ do _ make him feel better, hating the way that the tightened arm around his body makes him relax instinctively, feeling held, protected.

Feeling  _ safe _ , even though he is nothing of the sort.

Dave swallows thickly, curling his arms up so that he can press his fingers to his mouth.

_ Why are you doing this? Why are you being soft? I hate this. I hate this. It would be easier if you were nothing but cruel. _

He knows the answer. Because Eridan can. Because it's breaking Dave much better than any pain ever would. Because Dave is just Eridan's toy.

Dave wants to cry more, but there's just a hollow ache in his chest. He wants to give in and stop fighting. He wants to snap Eridan's neck. He wants to go home to Austin, but Austin isn't there anymore. He wants to see his Bro, get that tiny twitch of his lips of approval for fighting so hard and getting away. He wants to turn over and press his face into Eridan's chest.

He wants to stop thinking. He doesn't want to be put through this anymore. He doesn't have a choice- he  _ knows _ he needs to keep fighting, if only for the principle of it- but. Dave doesn't  _ want _ to.

"Why did your people attack Earth?" Dave asks softly. He doesn't know  _ why _ he asks, but... Dave doesn't know if he can fall back asleep again.

  
  


Eridan had begun slowly dozing off once more, but Dave's question has him blinking awake. Just couldn't be that easy, could it? T

he question leaves Eridan silent, weighing him down. It would be easy to say  _ I don't know _ , but that wouldn't exactly be accurate. It would be easy to say  _ The same reason we attack any planet _ , but that wouldn't be a complete answer. Eridan sighs, giving up on the idea of ignoring Dave and going back to sleep. Instead, he rolls Dave over so that Dave is facing Eridan.

"It's not like wwe targeted Earth specifically," Eridan began, still drowsy. "The Empire wwants to conquer plenty a' planets, yours just happened to be one of many. Resources, wwealth, land...just some reasons they tell us wwe gotta conquer."

Eridan knows that answer isn't going to make anything better, but he told the truth. Eridan reached up once more, brushing his thumbs over Dave's cheeks to wipe away any stray tears.

"'sides, not like you humans didn't engage in horrific wwar against one another. Maybe it's just in both of ours natures."

  
  


Eridan rolls him over so that they're facing and Dave swallows at the sight of his sleepy expression. He could probably go for the throat right now and he might be able to catch Eridan off guard.

He doesn't, though.

He listens as Eridan explains- Dave doesn't know if it's better or worse that it wasn't because Earth was special. The Empire needs resources. Earth is a planet of resources. The math is simple.

Eridan cups Dave's face and Dave closes his eyes, feeling a few last tears slip out and Eridan's touch is so  _ gentle _ as he thumbs them away.

"I suppose so." Dave says softly, because it's true. Humans waged war on each other all the time- and for what? For power, for land, for immaterial gain, for money? The loss of human life from wars all throughout history is... incalculable.

Dave is facing Eridan, now. He could lunge and try and attack.

He doesn't. He presses forwards a little, into Eridan's touch, and curls in so that his face is pressed to Eridan's chest.

"What are you going to do with me?" He asks, stomach churning at the display of weakness, but- he's already lost. They both know it. Dave doesn't need to keep pretending to be strong.

  
  


Dave's voice is so soft, his expressions so weak. Tears fall down his face and he willingly pushes himself further into Eridan's embrace. He's so vulnerable. So  _ susceptible _ to Eridan's influence.

Eridan moves a hand to the back of Dave's head, running it through his hair as he softly presses Dave's face into his chest, comforting and warm.

"I'm gonna make you strong again, Davve," Eridan comforted him, continuing to stroke Dave's hair in borderline pets. "Gonna fix you, get rid a' all that pain and misery and all those bad memories you might havve. You'll be so happy, believve me."

Eridan's voice is calmer than before, even as he vaguely explains his intentions to Dave. He chalks it up to being drowsy and just wanting some sleep.

"You wwant that, don't you? Just get some sleep, wwe'vve got a long day tomorroww."

  
  


Eridan cups the back of his head and holds him close, so Dave closes his eyes and presses closer, listening to the words Eridan's saying.

He doesn't want to be weak anymore. He doesn't want to hurt, doesn't want this pain in his heart, he-

he wants to be  _ happy _ .

Dave swallows at the soft, gentle tones of Eridan's voice. He shivers a little- because Eridan is right.

Dave is so  _ tired _ .

He nods a little into Eridan's chest, his heart aching but soothed. He doesn't want to hurt anymore. Eridan will make it so he doesn't. He closes his eyes, tucked into Eridan's chest, and tries to sleep again.

  
  


Eridan's slumber came to him even easier than earlier, drifting off to sleep content with Dave's apparent submission. Of course, this could all be one trick being pulled on Eridan, but...there was something about Dave's voice, his movements, his body language that sent a clear message to Eridan. He was broken, and he needed someone to fix him.

Eridan was there for him.

The scene of his dreams is largely the same, aboard a familiar ship with an even more familiar face. Yet they were no longer on the main deck of the schooner or loading cannons or scouting from the crow's nest. No, they were in the  _ captain's quarters _ , the first mate clutching his captain, wounded and needing his support, his comfort, his help.

Eridan wakes up hours later, Dave still against his chest, in his arms. If he was one to complain, Eridan would criticize his dreams for being incredibly derivative and too on-the-nose. Instead, he settles for breathing in Dave's hair, muttering softly.

"Mornin'."

  
  


Dave wakes tired and heartsick, and it takes him a minute to put things together. He's got his face pressed to Eridan's chest, Eridan holding him tightly.

Last night Eridan had  _ comforted _ him. Said he'll make Dave strong again, make it so he doesn't hurt. In the light of day it's mortifying- that he clung to Eridan and cried like a child needing reassurances because Eridan is his  _ enemy _ -

But Dave is tired. It's not just for sleep- it's a bone-deep weariness of the knowledge that it was all futile from the start. There was never any point. That there's no point resisting because he'll always lose.

When Eridan buries his nose in Dave's hair and greets him, Dave waits for a secone, before murmuring, "time is fake," a yawn makes his jaw crackle with muscles waking up, "so can we say it's night and stay in bed longer?"

  
  


...Wow. Eridan knew Dave had been broken down quite thoroughly over the past few days, but Dave asking to spend more time in bed with him catches him off-guard nonetheless. But he wasn't complaining. Instead, he runs a hand through Dave's hair, ruffling it up slightly.

Dave looks perfect like this. So weak, so vulnerable, so broken apart, barely holding together. Hell, the way Eridan sees it, he's the only thing holding Dave together right now, judging by how much Dave is pressed against his body and how Dave doesn't bother fighting back. Dave's no longer able to stand on his own, no longer that brave fighter. From what Eridan can tell, Dave  _ needs _ him.

Perfect.

"Fivve more minutes, that's all you'vve got," Eridan replied. "Wwe'vve got a big day, startin' wwith breakfast. Gonna need to make sure you eat up so you'vve got some energy in you for the day."

Eridan kept it vague for now, knowing how surreal his plans would sound if he bothered explaining them to Dave. Besides, it's not like Dave would have much of a say in whether or not he goes through with this anyway. Eridan's mind is made up.

  
  


"Cool."

Eridan actually agrees, which, wow Dave had  _ not _ been expecting that. Five minutes is five more minutes to not think about anything, to get to lie here and pretend he's with someone who isn't a genociding alien invader.

Five minutes to try and rebuild some of his armor. It's not a lot- and it feels like a fruitless task. Dave just breathes and breathes and breathes, slowly centering himself until he feels more like a person and less like a hollowed out broken shell of a man.

Big day, though? Great. It's always a big day around here. The means Eridan has more shit in store for him that's no doubt going to make him break even  _ more _ . Dave doesn't want to think about that, so he doesn't. Instead he takes every second of the five minutes with his head tucked against Eridan's chest.

  
  


Eridan can feel Dave's chest rising and falling slowly, taking deep breaths, likely trying to calm himself down or otherwise stabilize himself.

Hm. Maybe last night hadn't sent as much of a message as Eridan thought it had. Maybe there was still a few slivers of resistance trying to fight against the inevitable outcome of Dave's precarious situation. Well, that would hopefully be taken care of later today. Eridan ignores Dave's attempts at stabilization for now, instead getting out of bed.

Eridan works his pajamas off, folding them up and setting them at the foot of the bed. He dresses himself up in his uniform, keeping a close eye on Dave. Still in bed, not trying to escape or attack Eridan. For now, at least. Eridan decides to play it cautious though, especially with some shreds of Dave's dignity still clinging on. He tosses Dave's jumpsuit over to him, waiting at the edge of the bed.

"C'mon. Been more than fivve minutes, get up."

  
  


Dave stays where he is as Eridan gets out of bed, opening his eyes to track Eridan's movements as he gets dressed. When the jumpsuit is tossed to him, Dave sits up and stretches his arms up above his head before holding his wrists out.

"Alright, alright." He says. Cuffs off, pajamas off, underwear and jumpsuit on, cuffs on. Simple enough.

Dave tilts his a little as he absent-mindedly rubs over the cuffs, hating the chafing feeling.

"You keep saying big day." Dave says. "Should I be worried?"

He absolutely should be worried, but hey. Gallows humor and all that.

  
  


"Opposite, really," Eridan replies, beginning to lead Dave out of the room and towards the dining room. "You're gonna be feelin' so much better after today, so you shouldn't be wworried in the slightest. Excited, anxious maybe."

Eridan sits Dave down at the table, uncuffing him once more. The collar remains on, of course, but...Perhaps this will be the last breakfast where Dave has to wear it. It might be wishful thinking on Eridan's part, but if all goes according to plan, that could be the case.

Breakfast is served, with pancakes, bacon, eggs, and hash browns set before them. Dave is once again given a glass of apple juice, and Eridan settles for sparkling water.

"Noww, you mentioned In-N-Out and sushi, but havve you got any preferred breakfast foods? Wwould make this wwhole arrangement a lot easier on both of us."

  
  


Oooh boy, that makes Dave feel  _ more _ nervous. 'Feeling so much better'- Jesus. Okay. Yeah, he's really not looking forwards to whatever it is that the Commander has planned.

Dave doesn't try any shit this time with not eating- he knows it's pointless, so he just picks his cutlery up and eats.

"Well-" he says, forcing himself to keep a straight face at the Commander saying fucking  _ 'In-N-Out' _ with such a serious tone.

It's the little things. He'll take what humor he can get before he's taken to his doom.

"-Houston had the best fucking taco trucks." He muses. "Don't know if there are any of those left, but you could always look into breakfast burritos. Good shit. "

Please let him get to experience the Commander trying to eat a breakfast burrito please let him get to experience the Commander trying to eat a breakfast burrito please let him get to experience the Commander trying to eat a breakfast burrito.

"Especially with hot sauce." Dave adds. "Holy shit do us humans make some wild fucking hot sauce. You ever eaten anything so hot it feels like your tongue is going to melt off? Good shit."

  
  


Yep, there it is, Dave's back to his normal self after the previous night. For the most part, that is. He still seems to be the same talkative annoyance he usually is, which makes Eridan wonder just how successful his endeavors will be. He manages to push the thoughts aside, quietly listening to Dave's rambles about breakfast tacos.

"I'll keep that in mind," Eridan replies, picking at his food.

Much of his breakfast is spent simply watching and listening to Dave, trying to spot those vulnerabilities and flaws he had seen Dave display the previous night. He occasionally takes bites of his food here and there, washing it down, but a slight pit of worry has formed in his stomach, preventing him from fully indulging in the meal.

_ What if it doesn't work? What if it goes wrong? What if he gets caught? _ all bounce around in his head, bothering him as he tries to assure himself everything will go according to plan.

  
  


Dave proceeds to spend the rest of the breakfast mindlessly rambling about hot sauce because it's easier to do that then to think and worry about whatever tortures the Commander has planned to get sent his way. At least ten minutes are spent on bemoaning the lack of Tabasco on the ship.

Eventually, though, it's done, and Dave's mounting apprehension only grows as he pushes away from the table and holds out his wrists to the Commander.

"Right, go ahead, let's get this shitshow on the road, yeah?"

Fear and unease are warring in his belly, but there's a little crooning that Dave can't quite get rid of, nourished to life from last night, whispering softly  _ please make it stop. Please make me feel better. _

Dave tries to stop down on that weed viciously, but he can't bring himself to.

  
  


Dave ate his breakfast, willingly made conversation, and put his hands out without Eridan's asking. Huh. Eridan begins to consider that he was overthinking things. That's promising.

"Shitshoww, hm? Didn't seem so apprehensivve about this last night. You seemed to  _ wwant _ to be fixed up," Eridan replied, standing up from the table.

He slaps the cuffs back on Dave's wrists, walking him out of the dining room. Instead of going to a seamstress or an armory or some other new and unexplored part of the ship, Eridan begins to lead Dave back into his bedroom. Eridan pushes Dave in the direction of the bed, leaving him there as he makes his way over to the nearby dresser, the same dresser he had stored the chains used to lock Dave to the bedposts.

"Alright, on the bed," he calls out over his shoulder.

  
  


Dave swallows a little, his face going hot at the reminder. "Haven't you heard of sleep insanity?" He jokes. He tries not to think about how hard he broke down last night.

He's confused when the Commander brings him back to the bedroom- is the Commander just planning on fucking him all day? He's not quite sure how that constitutes a 'big day', but- whatever, he supposes.

At the order, he drops down to sit on the edge of the bed, his brow furrowing as he watches the Commander go over to the dresser. "Alright, give it to me, what's the plan? Alien karma sutra? Bongo drums and smooth jazz?"

  
  


Eridan fumbles around in one of the drawers for a moment, opting to use rope instead of chains this time. It's the courteous decision, after all.

"Gonna be doing an experiment a' sorts, I suppose you could say," Eridan replies, walking over with the rope in his hand.

Eridan pushes Dave onto his back, not waiting for any objections or concerns. First things first, Eridan uncuffs Dave once more. He then makes quick work out of tying Dave to the bed, binding rope around Dave's wrists and ankles before looping the rope around the bedposts. It's not anything painful; Eridan is careful to use a generous length of rope to ensure Dave's limbs aren't being stretched across the bed. It is, however, tied firmly around the bedposts, immobilizing Dave on the sheets.

He leaves Dave on the bed, walking back over to the dresser. His back is turned to Dave as he resumes exploring the drawers, searching intently.

  
  


Dave gives a surprised little  _ grk _ as the Commander pushes him down, brows flying up for a moment- and then he's being tried down.

Ooooooookay. He tests his bonds and, well, they're not as bad as expected.

"Kinky." Dave says, craning his head a little to try and see what the Commander is doing. "You know, if we  _ are _ going to be doing alien Kama Sutra then tying down my  _ legs _ is gonna make that kinda hard to do."

  
  


Eridan reaches into one of the drawers, his hand fumbling over the underside of the wooden drawer. A finger skims against a button and presses it, opening up a hidden compartment. Eridan pulls out a small rectangular box and a notebook, setting both aside. He places the box back in the compartment, closing it and the drawer.

The level of secrecy is an absolute must, as he risked his life for this hidden hobby of his. One of the most obscure yet most powerful fields of science, one that the Empire had labeled  _ heretical _ as 'magic'...Eridan would face imprisonment as a best case scenario for his participation in the white sciences. He opens up the box, retrieving the wand from within, and approaches the bed with wand and notebook in hand.

"It's not your body I'm interested in exploring right noww," Eridan explained, clambering between Dave's outstretched legs.

He traces the tip of his wand against Dave's temple, down his cheek, to his neck, and down to his chest, pressing against the fabric of the jumpsuit.

  
  


Dave can't really see what the Commander is doing, so he just drops his head back onto the bed with an exhale.

Alright. Cool. There's a pit of nerves in his belly, so he breathes a couple of times to chill it out.

The Commander comes back and he's got a book and a-

a stick?

Dave's brows furrow a bit as the Commander climbs onto the bed. Wait. That's not a fucking stick, holy shit, is that a-

“Are you for real?" Dave asks, his head tilting away slightly from the  _ fucking wand _ . "What, are you about to do some wizard play? Fucking magic and shit?  _ I don my hat and wizard robes _ kinda shit-"

  
  


Of course that's Dave's reaction. Of course it is. Eridan sighs, shaking his head slightly. The conflation between science, which was real and a powerful force, and magic, an impotent fairy tale for stupid grubs, was all too common on many planets, including Earth, it seems.

"Not magic, not a wwizard. Just a...scientist," Eridan explains, prodding the tip of the wand into the fabric of Dave's jumpsuit. "I'm gonna need you to relax your body an' your mind. Can you do that for me?"

Eridan stares down at Dave, tracing his free hand up one of Dave's legs, along his side, resting his hand on Dave's chest near the wand. Dave looks so perfectly vulnerable like this, tied to a bed, unable to fight back against Eridan even if he wanted to try.

"Remember, it's to make you feel good. To feel strong again."

  
  


"A scientist. Right." Dave says, sucking in a breath at the prod. "Uh. I'm going to assume that it will hurt a  _ lot _ more if I don't relax because that's how this kinda shit always seems to go so-"

He hisses in a breath at the touch running up his body.

"Okay. Yeah. Okay." He says faintly. "Yeah just- just gimme a mo'." He closes his eyes and tries not to think about how Eridan's words hit him hard. To make him  _ feel good _ , feel  _ strong _ again.

Fuck, does he want that. But does he want that enough to give up his humanity? To just give into whatever the Commander wants to do to him?

Dave guesses it's not really his choice. Not really. He can either make it painful on himself or he can make it easy.

Dave's been fighting his whole life. From the moment he could stand, a blade was shoved into his hand, over and over, no matter how many times he tried to put it down.

Dave's tired of fighting.

He breathes in deep and holds it, slowly exhaling out his tension, trying to relax as much as possible.

Just get it over with. There's no point fighting.

In, hold. Out, release.

"Alright." He says faintly, completely relaxed into the bed. "Get your science mumbo-jumbo over with."

Ha. He's willing to bet it's magic.

  
  


Eridan uses his free hand to slowly tug down the zipper in the center of Dave's jumpsuit, revealing his scarred chest. His fingers trace over the skin, Eridan appreciating his decision to make Dave go without an undershirt beneath that jumpsuit. However, as much as he'd love to appreciate the flawed, imperfect blemishes adorning Dave's body, it's time to focus on the matter at hand. He pulls his hand back, and he pushes the tip of the wand against Dave's skin.

Eridan closes his eyes, beginning to quietly whisper 'equations' under his breath. Really, that's what they were, Eridan assured himself. If magic was comprised of rituals and spells, then it would only make sense for science to be comprised of formulas and equations. Besides, they were written down in a notebook after trial and error, much like any good element of the scientific method. As he whispered these supposedly scientific chants, he focused his mind on Dave, trying his best to pierce through the boundaries of the physical world.

After a few moments of prolonged whispering, intense concentration, and a momentary splash of self-doubt, Eridan feels his wand vibrating in his grasp. Opening his eyes, he sees it glowing a bright white, and all of the concern and doubt washes away.

It's working.

Eridan begins to pull his wand upward, off of Dave's chest and above his body. With it comes a large glowing orb of white...energy? matter? light? Eridan has a difficult time telling what exactly it  _ looks _ like, but he knows what it is. Eridan sets his wand aside, and the orb floats above Dave's body.

"Fuckin'  _ wwoww _ ," is all that he manages to say, whispering softly as he looks down at the orb—and at Dave.

  
  


Dave swallows as Eridan starts to speak. Sure fucking sounds like magic to him, but whatever.

He chokes a little bit as something  _ sinks _ into his chest. It's like a vice grip around his heart, around his lungs- he can breathe, but only  _ barely _ .

"Wh-" his air wheezes out of him, head lolling back. His muscles aren't responding. He can't move.

Everything is grey.

It's like a down blanket is covering him. Everything’s soft and muted and heavy. His fingers barely twitch. His breathing is heavy. His heartbeat is muffled and distant.

_ What's...... _

He can barely string thoughts together.

  
  


Eridan sets the wand onto the sheets near Dave, reaching forward with both hands. He pushes his fingers into the bright orb, feeling a warm, prickly, and tingly sensation envelop the tips of his fingers. He moves them further in, breathing slowly as he focuses his mind on Dave.

Ignoring the amazing scientific feat that just occurred. Focusing on Dave.

Bits and pieces flash in Eridan's mind. Some memories, some dreams, some fears, all running through Eridan's head. They aren't his own. They're of an apartment back on Earth, of swords cutting into his skin, of a life long gone for Dave. But Eridan decides to leave the memories for another time. Now, he's more interested in exploring some of those fears. Some of those things that make Dave tremble.

It's nobody. Not as in 'Dave fears no man', but the fear is...nobody being there. Dave is walking through his apartment, ruins of the Earth, Eridan's ship, the private quarters, wandering aimlessly and endlessly without anybody else in sight.

He's completely alone.

  
  


Muffled. Empty. His chest is hollow.

Heat floods into him. His breath catches. Head lolls.

Heat. Warmth of a touch. Heavy, heavy- deep in his chest. Deep.

Flashes.

Moment after moment. Bro's training. Running from trolls. A closet. Apple juice. Small fingers fumbling to open the bottle. Last one, make it count.

A low, gutteral noise. He's  _ alone _ . Fear sinks into his bones. There's nothing. No one. Can't escape. Can't hide from being alone.

_ Don....... don lea...... ve ........ me..... _

In his chest.

In

his chest.

Heat. Touch. Everything's far away.

Please.

He's trapped.

  
  


Eridan can feeling a tightening around his fingers within the glowing ball, constricting and loosening repeatedly, as if it were convulsing. Probably best to move on from that now that the got a decent look at Dave's greatest fear.

Pushing past that, Eridan whispers some more words under his breath, trying to dive deeper into Dave's soul. The colors began to brighten, the images began to soften, and Eridan figured he found what he was looking for. It was much more...abstract, more...intangible than fears or dreams or nightmares or memories. It was the sense of concepts, of right and wrong, of good and bad.

Perfect.

Eridan began to focus his mind on his own set of principles, his own sense of morality. As he concentrated, he continued to whisper ancient Alternian dialects under his breath, hoping to alter Dave's state of being into something more in line with Eridan's own beliefs and convictions.

It was in both their best interests, really.

  
  


Fear bleeds away. Back to grey.

Weight on him, keeping him down. He's so heavy.

Deep, heavy breath.  _ Deep _ .

Touched so deep. It's in his brain. No, deeper.

It's in his  _ being _ .

Dave can't move. Can't scream. Can't cry. It's just grey.

Heat inside him. Through his chest.

Rules. Bro's rules. Tying him down. Heavy chains. Have they always been chains?

Gossamer-thin ribbons on his hands. Society's rules. Do this. Don't do that. Be good. Don't be bad.

_ What is good? What is bad? _

The question perplexes him. He can't think.

_ Let me show you. _

Please. He's never known. Has he?

_ This is good. _

Obeying his commander. Living for him. Dying for him. Loving him. Trusting the Empire. Loyalty. Being strong. Protecting his commander.

_ This is bad. _ Betraying his commander. Betraying the Empire. Treasonous actions. Being weak. Being a coward. Abandoning his station. Betraying his men.

_ Obey. _

He wants to be good. He's never been good. Never been able to follow rules. Always needed correction. Always needed teaching through pain.

This lesson doesn't hurt.

The heat burns in his eyes.

  
  


Eridan slowly exhales a deep breath, pulling his hands back. His fingers slowly exit the warm light, coming back to reality. He grabs his wand and slowly guides the ball downward into Dave's chest once more. It pushes past his bare skin and settles back into his body. Eridan zips up the jumpsuit, looking down into Dave's eyes.

He wants to know if his experiment worked, but he needs to take care of clean up first. Can't have a wand or a pseudo-spellbook laying around, after all. Eridan leaves Dave on the bed for a moment, giving him some time to adjust, while he clambers off the bed. Wand in the box, open the drawer, open the compartment, put the box and notebook in the compartment, close the compartment, close the drawer...and he's finally done, making his way back to the bed.

"Howw are you feelin'?" Eridan asks, beginning to untie Dave from the bedposts.

  
  


Warmth returns to his body. The world leeches back in slowly, and then all at once.

His face is wet.

Dave feels unsteady, shaky, as he blinks up at the ceiling. Like he's been stripped bare- but he can't quite remember. Everything was hazy, muffled.

His limbs are trembling faintly. He flexes slowly, grateful for the ropes tying him down. He can lie here for a minute and slowly collect himself.

Dave has enough awareness of himself to know- to realize that  _ something's _ different. He can't quite put a finger on it. It's a heavy, strange feeling in his gut.

Eridan comes back and the feeling evaporates.

He doesn't need to care. His Commander is here.

"Raw." He says faintly. It feels like he went three rounds with his Bro and got his ass beat every time.

  
  


Eridan tosses the rope onto the floor, sitting up in bed. His eyes scan over Dave, looking over his face and body for anything, any small signs of success or failure. Dave's verbal response is vague, not quite helpful. But maybe Eridan can pry some sort of response out.

He reaches over to pull Dave up into his lap, hands running over Dave's sides absentmindedly. His eyes remain focused on Dave's face, primarily staring into those brilliant, bright scarlet eyes of Dave's.

"Think you're gonna be okay?"

  
  


Eridan tugs Dave into his lap and Dave goes willingly, gratefully. His mind is churning.

There's so much conflicting knowledge inside his brain. Minutes ago, Eridan was his enemy. Now, Eridan is his  _ commander. _ He did something to his brain, to him- but every inch of him is relaxing, saying  _ whatever Eridan did- it was good for me. He's my commander. Doesn't this feel right? _

"I...." Dave's hands grip lightly at Eridan's shirt, unaware of the soft, searching expression on his face as he looks right on back at Eridan. "I think so." He says faintly. "You... did something."

  
  


Eridan nodded at Dave's soft words, letting him speak. Under different circumstances, Eridan would likely highlight the way Dave's hands are gripping at his shirt, the way his face is so soft and so vulnerable. Instead, he lets Dave get his bearings after such an intense experience.

"I did, I did do somethin'," Eridan began, reaching up to brush Dave's hair from his face. "I told you I'd make you feel better, so that's wwhat I did. Don't you feel so much better, Davve?"

Eridan smiles. It's not one of his sadistic grins or arrogant smirks, not now, at least. No, it's soft and welcoming, looking up into Dave's face to show that his commander is there for him. His commander helped make him feel better, and he's going to be okay.


	6. Chapter 6

_Don’t you feel so much better?_

That’s the bitch of the situation, isn’t it? Dave’s thoughts are all jumbled up inside his head, he’s never been good at keeping things straight without talking about them.

“Fuck.” Dave exhales a little, tilting his head into the touch. Eridan’s expression is so _soft_ and loving, and that makes embarrassed warmth pool in Dave’s belly. _He_ put that expression on his Commander’s face.

“You did.” Dave murmurs. “Just earlier- I was…” He lets go with one hand to press his knuckles to his temple, unable to look away from Eridan’s expression. “I was… your enemy.” He’s trying to work through his jumbled mess of thoughts, put them in order. “Everything was _shit_. We were enemies. That’s… to be expected. But then you did something to me. Something that… _changed_ me, somehow-”

He rubs his hand over his eyes. “And- now I…” He presses his knuckles to his mouth, eyes downcast, flickering back and forth rapidly. “I don’t care?” He guesses, trying to parse his emotions. “I don’t… care about being enemies. I don’t care about… anything that isn’t  _you_ . Or the Empire.” He adds, feeling the reminder pop up.

He finally looks back up to Eridan. “Whatever you did- it  _changed_ me.” There’s no accusation in his voice, only realization. Everything feels cleaner, now. Clear-cut. “You made me loyal. Or… devoted? Or-” Dave’s mouth twists, trying to find the right word. “You made me  _yours_ .” He settles on.

That feels right. He’s  _Eridan’s_ . Eridan is his commander. He wonders is maybe he should feel bad about that, should feel upset that Eridan has apparently changed such a fundamental part of his being that his enemy is now the one he is most devoted to.

He doesn’t feel bad at all. He’s  _Eridan’s_ . That means whatever Eridan did to him, it was  _for Eridan’s benefit,_ and that’s Dave’s  _purpose._

Circular reasoning, perhaps? But Dave can’t bring himself to care about  _that_ , either.

  
  


Eridan’s eyes read Dave like a book, analyzing every flicker of his eyes, every tilt of his head, every soft breath in and out, every movement of his hands. And his  _voice_ , so unsure until he managed to stumble to the conclusion, realizing that he’s  _Eridan’s_ , like it finally clicks in his mind.

Eridan watches Dave finally put himself back together after being so thoroughly broken apart. It’s endearing, and Eridan can’t help but smile.

“You like bein’ mine, right? Don’t you feel safe an’ secure an’ _good_ noww?” Eridan asked, tracing his hands down the front of Dave’s jumpsuit.

His mind is telling him to make notes of this right now, to pull that notebook out and furiously scribble out the results to preserve. Instead, he opts to savor the moment, holding his newest recruit in his lap and letting him adjust to his new convictions.

  
  


_Does_ Dave like being Eridan’s?

The immediate answer is  _of course_ . Eridan’s hands on him feel good, being in his Commander’s lap feels good, he feels  _safe_ .

Dave stops, though. Doesn’t answer immediately. His Commander changed him. Made him stop caring about some things and start caring about others.

Is that such a bad thing? Rearranging Dave’s priorities? Before everything was so vague and confusing and a mess of morality and trying to judge social niceties and where lines in the sand were drawn. Now, everything is so near and concise.

No, it’s not a bad thing at all. Eridan took Dave and  _focused_ him. Gave him a new, central set of rules to live by. Like hammering him into a blade, he forged Dave into something new.

Is that a  _bad_ thing? Dave didn’t know before that Eridan would do, and he’s sure that if he knew then he would have fought, would have protested. But now, feeling as he does and knowing what he does, with his Commander in front of him- everything fits together so nice and neat. Everything feels right.

His Commander knows best. Dave is  _Eridan’s_ and that’s a good thing, because no matter that Dave felt before, what Eridan has done for him has made him feel good. It doesn’t matter what  _before_ was because now, in this moment, this new state- Eridan is his Commander, and he’s made Dave feel  _owned_ .

So, regardless of Dave’s wants, his Commander knew best and took care of him- and that means that this is where he’s meant to be.

“ _Yes.”_ Dave breathes, after a long, long minute of introspection. “I’m yours.” He murmurs, arching up a little into the touch. “Eridan…”

  
  


Dave’s long pause gives Eridan a brief moment of concern, his smile fading as he stares up, trying his best to read Dave’s face. However, it’s just a matter of waiting it out, and his smile returns when Dave affirms his devotion and presses his body into Eridan’s touches.

“Mm, wwhat is it Davve?” Eridan asks. “Does that feel good?”

Eridan lets his hands continue to trace down the front of Dave’s body, taking their time. As he reaches Dave’s lower stomach, however, he begins to move them around to Dave’s back, continuing to move them until they rest on Dave’s rear.

“Do you like wwhen your commander touches you?”

Eridan already knew the answer. But he wanted to hear it coming from that voice, from those lips.

  
  


Dave’s breath catches in his throat at his Commander’s hands on his ass. Fuck, it  _does_ feel good-

“Yeah-” He says breathlessly, letting go of Eridan’s shirt to drape his arms around Eridan’s neck. “Feels really fuckin’ good-”

Dave swallows, sliding a hand up to lightly thread his fingers into Eridan’s hair.  _Love your Commander._

He doesn’t think to ask permission. He kisses Eridan.

  
  


“I’m glad you li—”

Eridan is cut off by the sudden kiss, genuinely catching him off-guard. It had been clear to Eridan that the manipulation had been successful, but  _wow_ , he did not expect Dave to adjust to this so quickly, to fall into such a comfortable pattern.

But he wasn’t complaining either.

Eridan keeps one hand rooted on Dave’s ass, moving the other up to grasp at the back of Dave’s head. He pulls him deeper into the kiss, rolling his hips up to lightly grind against Dave.

  
  


Eridan cups the back of his head and holds him close and  _yes_ , fuck, this feels good, this feels  _right._

Clearly past-him was an idiot for fighting. He couldn’t have known, but if he had, he would have realized that this is perfect, this is where Dave is meant to be.

Dave moans lowly as Eridan pulls him into the kiss, as his Commander grinds up against him. He mouths against Eridan, humming softly in pleasure at the feeling of being ground against. He rolls his hips forwards in response, one hand coming forwards to rest against Eridan’s chest.

  
  


The moans and grinds Dave gives in response to Eridan’s movements nearly makes his fins flutter, but Eridan is able to get those little instinctual urges under control. However, he can’t control the writhe of his bulge, tenting at his pants underneath Dave.

Eridan is the one to break the kiss, pushing Dave away slightly, but leaning up to give another quick peck as a form of apologizing. With Dave no longer pressed up against him entirely, Eridan is able to slowly work off the top half of his uniform, a routine consisting of plenty of unbuttoning and tugging up over his head. Eventually, however, his bare chest is before Dave.

And Eridan wastes no time pulling Dave back in for another deep kiss.

  
  


Dave can feel it, feel what his kiss is doing to Eridan, and it makes a warm, pleased heat spread through him. He pants softly as Eridan breaks the kiss, a pleased heat bubbling through him as Eridan goes in for another quick peck.

He watches with a quiet anticipation as his Commander works his top off- his fingers itch to help but he knows he’d probably just make it harder with his lack of knowledge of how it comes off.

So Dave leans back to give Eridan room to strip it off- and then goes eagerly into another kiss. His Commander kisses him deeply, possessively- and Dave lets out a soft, pleased noise at the feeling of it, draping his arms around Eridan’s neck, rolling his hips forwards to feel Eridan’s bulge.

  
  


Dave’s small noise goes straight to Eridan’ bulge, writhing up against the fabric of his pants with a sheer need. Eridan again breaks the kiss, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he dips down, planting kisses down Dave’s neck. A hand finds its way to the zipper on Dave’s jumpsuit, tugging it down once more to reveal more of Dave’s skin.

Eridan tries to not be too harsh as he begins to nip at Dave’s collarbone, biting and sucking marks down Dave’s neck and onto his shoulders. He takes his care to press a gentle kiss to each mark he leaves behind, continuing to grind up into Dave.

" _Fuck_ , howw’s this feel?" Eridan asks against Dave’s skin, kissing a fresh mark.

  
  


Dave tips his head to the side to give his Commander better access to his neck, breathing heavily. His breaths break into moans at the nips- his Commander is  _marking_ him, giving him proof that Eridan recognizes his devotion and is  _rewarding_ him for it.

“Feels fuckin’ good.” Dave breathes, his hands squeezing and flexing on Eridan’s shoulders. “God, fuck- please, Eridan, more-”

  
  


“I suppose, since you asked so nicely,” Eridan teases.

Eridan pulls his head back and reaches up to take Dave’s hands off of his shoulders.

“Don’t wworry, just fixing something.”

He reaches up to pull down at the now-unzipped upper half of the jumpsuit. He works it off over Dave’s arms and chest, letting the jumpsuit fall down to Dave’s waist. Now, with Dave’s upper body fully on display, Eridan moves to press kisses down the front of Dave’s chest, his hands slowly wandering up Dave’s sides and over his back, fingers dancing over the scars.

“I’vve got you, Davve. I’ve got you,” he mutters against Dave’s chest.

Eridan has him. He’s Eridan’s.

  
  


Dave leans back a little to give Eridan room to undress him. There’s a little flutter of nerves in his belly over Eridan seeing his scars, but- his Commander already has. Multiple times.

And yet- it feels different this time, somehow, because this is the first time his Commander is  _really_ looking at him, looking at his loyal…

His…

What  _is_ Dave? His pet? His bedwarmer? Dave supposes it doesn’t matter overly much. He’ll be anything Eridan wants him to be. He’ll be his fucking  _shoe shiner_ if that’s what Eridan wants.

But this is the first time his Commander has seen him when he’s  _loyal_ and it makes his stomach squeeze as Eridan touches over him, kissing his chest. Fingers brushing over any scar they can find, a silent acknowledgement.  _I see you. You’re here with me. I’m not pulling away._

His head falls back on a low moan. “You’ve got me-” he says breathlessly. His hands settle back onto Eridan’s shoulders.

  
  


Eridan draws his head up to plant another quick, soft peck on Dave’s lips, before pressing his forehead against Dave’s. He breathes softly for a few moments, saying nothing as he stares into Dave’s eyes, hands staying still on Dave’s back. After the brief pause, he breaks the silence.

“You ready to take orders from your commander?” Eridan asks.

  
  


Dave breathes, just as soft and gentle as Eridan, waiting for direction. He nods.

“Whatever you want, Eridan.” He says, then belatedly tries, “Sir?” His nose wrinkles a bit. “That feels really fucking weird. Commander? That’s a bit better, I suppose.”

But then he shakes his head with a roll of his eyes at his own question and nods.

“Lay them down on me, I’m ready.”

  
  


The word ‘adorable’ isn’t in Eridan’s vocabulary, but he’d make an exception for now. Dave’s face, trying to figure out a proper title of authority for Eridan, is  _adorable_ . He’s such a far cry from the Dave who had nearly killed him in combat and in captivity. But…not entirely.

He was still Dave. He still had those rolls of the eyes, he still had that same confident, cool-headed approach. Sure, Eridan may be throwing a wrench in that with his mouth roaming all over his body, but there was still a bright light of Dave shining through. Dave still had that personality, that humor, that…everything.

His priorities were just fixed a little bit. For the better, of course.

Eridan uses his hands to roll Dave off of his lap, taking a moment to quickly work his pants off. Soon, he’s sitting on the bed in just a pair of briefs, bulge writhing against the tight fabric. With that, Eridan manhandled Dave to lay down in front of him, pressing Dave’s face into the tented fabric of his briefs.

“Servvice your _master_ , Davve.”

  
  


Eridan rolls him back off his lap and Dave goes willingly, eagerly, watching with rapt attention as his Commander strips his pants off, leaving him just in his underwear.

Then he’s yanking Dave down and in and giving him a command.

_Master_ .

Oh,  _yes_ , fuck- that’s it, that’s the one. Eridan is his Commander, but moreso than that- he’s Dave’s  _Master_ .

Dave moans, pressing his face against the tent in Eridan’s underwear. “Yes, Master.” He breathes, all-but  _huffing_ the salty, musky scent emanating from the damp underwear. It makes a thick heat pool in his gut, smelling it, and he immediately starts pressing kisses over the bulge, open mouthed and worshipful.

He smooths his hands up Eridan’s thighs as he does so, until they find the edge of his underwear, and he hooks his fingers into them. He mouths a few more times over the damp fabric before tugging Eridan’s underwear down and letting his bulge slip free.

“Hello there.” Dave whispers, grinning, and then he’s opening his mouth and trying to stuff as much of Eridan’s bulge into his mouth as he can fit. It turns out to be more than he thinks- but it’s not the whole thing, so _clearly_ he’ll need to practice more in the future.

  
  


Eridan whispers sweet words of encouragement to Dave and mutters praising profanity under his breath as Dave teases him through his underwear, feeling every press of Dave’s lips and tongue against the fabric, rapidly dampening from both his own arousal and Dave’s mouth.

Before he knows it, the underwear is tugged down to his thighs, his bulge writhing out.

“Howw’s your neww perspecti—”

Eridan can’t even finish his cocky attempt at teasing Dave before the human is taking Eridan’s bulge into his mouth, quickly pushing his head down the length of his bulge. Eridan can’t help the low moan of pleasure that escapes his lips at the sensation, Dave’s lips wrapped so perfectly around the bulge while his tongue is pressed to the underside of the writhing appendage.

Typically, Eridan would buck his hips in response to someone hitting their limit. But not now. Not with his new, loyal human. Instead, Eridan reaches down to tangle a hand in Dave’s hair, slowly pushing his head downward slightly, careful to not push too far.

  
  


Eridan moans above him, low and pleased, and Dave’s belly goes hot with pleasure, at making his Commander feel good. He’s got Eridan’s bulge in his mouth, pressing a bit down his throat- and it feels good, but uncomfortable- it’s at the point were he doesn’t feel like he should take anymore, but he knows he probably  _can_ .

It feels strange, tapered and thin as it slowly shifts inside his mouth as he licks over what he can, and the feeling of it moving in his throat is- ooh boy, it’s doing  _something_ to him, and Dave can’t tell if it’s just good or if it’s fucking  _fantastic_ .

It’s offset by the ache of having his throat pressed open- which, even if it is relatively slender, it’s still  _doing it_ \- but if Dave’s being honest, it’s absolutely making his dick even harder.

His Master’s hand settles in his hair and Dave hums in pleasure at the touch, his eyes fluttering closed. Fuck, this is good. It feels good to have someone else in control, to not have to worry about  _anything_ .

Eridan pushes slowly on his head. Making him take more. Dave’s eyes roll back at the feeling, his throat being pressed over wider as his stomach rolls, his Master’s bulge wiggling deeper into his throat, cutting off his air.

He moans, the noise muffled by the copious amounts of tentacle shoved into him. God. Eridan can use Dave however he wants- Dave will be  _happy_ for it. Eridan can pin him down and facefuck him and Dave’ll be happy to be a hole for him to use.

So, even though it aches (aches  _so good_ ), Dave doesn’t protest as Eridan pushes him down more, tears of discomfort gathering in his eyes.

  
  


“Mm, _fuck_ ,” Eridan gasps, feeling Dave’s moan vibrate around his bulge.

It isn’t just the feeling. The sight itself is something to behold. One of the strongest rebels formerly still standing, one of the biggest thorns in Eridan’s side, someone so adamant on killing him…reduced to this. His red eyes fluttering open and shut, lips wrapped taut around Eridan’s bulge, wanting to push himself further down to service his new  _master_ . Tears brimming in his eyes.

Dave didn’t cry when he was captured. Dave didn’t cry when his brother was killed. Dave didn’t cry when all of their swords were smelted into molten metal. Dave didn’t cry when Eridan nearly killed him.

Dave cried when Eridan spanked him to submission, and Dave cried when he took his master’s bulge in his warm mouth.

Dave’s mouth, his throat feel amazing, but it’s not enough. Eridan wants more. He needs more. A position like this, however, isn’t conducive to what Eridan needs.

Eridan pulls Dave’s head upward slowly until his bulge writhes free from Dave’s mouth. He takes the bulge into his hand, slapping the wet, saliva-coated, writhing tentacle against Dave’s cheeks, dragging it across his face to tease him. After a bit of denigration, Eridan pulls Dave up for another quick peck, before rolling Dave over to lay on his back.

“Open up for me again, Davve. Mouth wwide.”

  
  


Eridan holds him down as his throat aches, but then slowly pulls him up and off. Dave can feel every little inch slide free, his eyes fluttering at every little press and shift of his bulge.

He pants wetly as the tip finally slips from his mouth, looking up at his Commander blissfully.

Eridan slaps his bulge onto Dave’s face and Dave  _moans_ , breathing deep the scent of Eridan’s slick, sea-salt filling his nose. He closes his eyes and shudders as his Master’s bulge is dragged across his face, coating his cheeks like a thin, translucent layer of violet slick.

“Fuck.” Dave says faintly before Eridan steals a kiss and then pushes him over onto his back. He looks up at Eridan with a flushed adoration and opens his mouth, slipping his tongue out.

Oh god. Please give it to him. Please give it to him, please let his Master use him and fuck his face.

  
  


And yet another exception to Eridan’s propensity to not use words like  _adorable_ . Dave, with his face blushing in admiration, his mouth open and tongue out, face coated with a thin layer of slick, practically begging for his master? Adorable. Adorable, but also overwhelming arousing. Eridan’s bulge twists and writhes as he positions his hips at Dave’s face.

His hands hold onto the sheets for support as he lowers himself down, pressing his bulge into Dave’s open, waiting mouth. After he feels Dave’s warm breath around the tip of his bulge, he picks up the pace of pushing himself forward, moving until his bulge is once again pressing at Dave’s throat. This time, however, Eridan continues to push in slowly yet firmly, with no sign of stopping.

  
  


Eridan settles into place above Dave, where he belongs, and Dave looks up at him with an eagerly pounding heart. His Master’s bulge is snaking back and forth in the air above him and Dave tracks it, tracks it’s motions, like it has him hypnotized.

Maybe it does. He doesn’t really care.

So he waits, hips shifting impatiently, mouth open- and then Eridan’s hips are slowly pressing down, pressing in, and his Commander’s bulge is sliding into his mouth.

It twists and rubs over every surface it can and Dave moans faintly as it explores and fills his mouth, until it presses right up against his throat.

Eridan’s bulge slowly wiggles down his throat, pressing him open. The first couple of inches aren’t bad, but then there’s more and it opens him up  _wider_ and that’s a strange feeling, his throat being used and pushed into submission. Dave eyes flutter shut as Eridan keeps pushing, his throat spasming as he gags, but he raises his chin, taking more on his own, he doesn’t want his Commander to stop. He wants to take it all- and be forced to take what he can’t on his own.

Feeling the Eridan’s bulge undulate in his throat is so so so fucking weird- but it feels  _good_ , radiating a pleasurable ache through him that has his dick wanting touch, begging for attention.

Dave gags and coughs around Eridan’s length, his eyes teary, as his lips stretch around the base of Eridan’s bulge, nestled right up against his bulge slit. It feels like his jaw is going to dislocate, but- he’s servicing his Master.

He can’t breathe. He doesn’t really care.

  
  


Eridan holds himself in place, enjoying the sensation of his bulge wriggling in Dave’s throat, enjoying the warmth and wetness. Every gag and cough sends a jolt of pleasure up through Eridan’s body, but Eridan is only just getting started.

He slowly raises himself up, his bulge pulling up out of Dave’s throat and beginning to draw out of Dave’s mouth. Eridan continued to slowly withdraw until only the tip of his bulge was still in Dave’s mouth. Then, after a brief moment of pause for Dave to take in some much needed oxygen through his nose, Eridan bucks himself forward, driving his bulge back into Dave’s mouth and throat.

A quick pace is set, Eridan thrusting himself downward rapidly to repeatedly open Dave’s throat. His thrusts push Dave’s head back into the sheets, the commander unrelentingly aggressive with his speed and force.

  
  


Eridan pulls out nice and slow until Dave can finally suck in a breath, his eyes watering from the strain it was starting to put on his lungs.

Then, all at once and without warning, his Master  _shoves_ down and fucks himself into Dave’s throat. Dave seizes, his eyes rolling back at the sudden invasion, his dick  _throbbing_ at the motion. His moan is choked off by the bulge filling him up, stuffing him full.

_Oh fuck oh fuck-_

Eridan doesn’t give him a moment to adjust. He starts thrusting his bulge in and out of Dave’s mouth at a relentless pace that has him gagging and tearing up and his eyes rolling back- and it feels so fucking  _good_ to have his throat fucked open, to be  _used_ by his Commander, to be useful  _to him_ as something to bring him pleasure.

This is where he belongs. Underneath his Master. His lungs burning, his hips fruitlessly twitching up as they search for contact, his throat spasming as his Master  _takes_ his pleasure from Dave’s body.

  
  


" _Pathetic…fuckin’…wwhore…_ "

Eridan barely manages to mutter out the insult between his pants and grunts of effort, focusing his energy on fucking Dave’s throat.

Sure, Dave was now broken in nice and properly, but it seemed like the human was enjoying Eridan’s rough, dominant demeanor. The way his moans vibrate around Eridan’s shaft, the way his eyes roll up, the way he tries so desperately to seek out any bits of pleasure he can get all seem to point to Dave enjoying being treated roughly. It only seemed fair Eridan did so verbally as well.

Eridan can feel the tension building in his body, nearing his climax. Dave feels too good, so inexperienced and yet so obedient, willing to service his master. The combination works wonders on Eridan, feeling every little gag around his bulge, Dave’s tongue pressing against the underside of his bulge at any opportunity.

Without warning, Eridan thrusts forward as hard as he can, burying his wriggling bulge in Dave’s mouth and throat. His genetic material flows from his bulge in cool bursts, pumped directly into Dave’s mouth and down his throat.

  
  


Dave moans  _louder_ at the insult. God. Yes. That’s what he is, he’s his Master’s  _whore_ , he’s meant to be used and he’s just a tool for Eridan to feel good with. His fingers twist in the bedcovers, his lungs burning as they struggle for air and every pound, every thrust of Eridan’s hips echo through him, pulsing in his brain, in his gut, in his  _blood_ .

Each gag is painful and it  _hurts_ as he spasms around Eridan’s bulge but it feels  _good_ , it feels so good.

Dave’s brain is starting to go fogged out and his lungs  _hurt_ , desperate for air, when Eridan  _shoves_ in hard, pushing Dave’s head into the bed as he buries Dave’s face in his crotch and cums. Dave can feel each pulse of his cum moving through his bulge, into his mouth and down his throat and he can only weakly swallow, eyes fluttering as darkness starts to creep in on the edges of his brain.

He’s so fucking close to cumming. He’s pretty sure that one single touch from Eridan and he’d be done.

His hands weakly come up to cup over the back of Eridan’s thighs, but he doesn’t tug- he pulls  _in_ , encouraging Eidan’s bulge to grind into his throat as Eridan cums, choking him even more.

  
  


Eridan lets out a soft moan as he finishes inside Dave’s throat. The moan shifts into a low seadweller trill as Dave’s hands pull Eridan further down, holding him in place. Eridan hadn’t expected that, but he definitely was not complaining about it either.

Slowly, Eridan pulled himself up, pulling his bulge from Dave’s lips. A few stray drops of his genetic material dribble down his bulge and onto Dave’s face, joining the clearer, thinner slick from the earlier facial teasing. He pulls away, sitting back onto the bed.

“Wwell, I think you did a…servviceable job of satisfying your master. So…” Eridan trails off, glancing down at Dave’s hard cock pressing through the jumpsuit’s fabric. “I suppose I could thank you.”

Eridan shifts over on the bed, cleanly and quickly tugging the jumpsuit down Dave’s legs, finally fully removing it. Dave’s underwear are next, tossed into the pile of discarded clothes. Without a word, Eridan moves over to line his nook up with Dave’s cock. Slowly, he begins to lower himself down, pushing himself down just enough to take in the head, not moving any further.

  
  


Eridan’s moan is the sexiest thing Dave’s ever heard- and he got to have a front row seat at an Obama speech. But the low trill-

That’s the most  _beautiful_ .

It’s the sound that follows him as his conciou-

Eridan pulls out. Air comes rushing back in and he gasps, the oxygen like a shot of pure dopamine to his brain, blissed out and  _wrecked_ . Every breath brings him back from that brink of passing out, makes his lungs hurt, makes his limbs tremble as they wake up again.

He’s barely able to get his brain working enough to look up at Eridan as he talks about Dave  _satisfying him_ .

The praise feels like a warm glow, filling up the oxygen-starved places of his brain. Dave watches with a dazed, drunken enjoyment as Eridan shifts down the bed.

His chest is still heaving, he’s still panting for breath, struggling to put his thoughts in order, and then Eridan is lowering himself, just a touch.

Just enough to envelop Dave in a wet, sucking, cool grip that grabs his gut and  _yanks_ and Dave would not be able to stop himself from cumming anymore than he would be able to disobey Eridan.

He gives a wordless,  _wrecked_ noise as his cock jerks and pumps cum over into Eridan, into his Master, clawing at the sheets and hauling his shoulders off the bed so that his hips stay firmly planted- he won’t buck up and steal from his Master.

But he collapses back into the bed. Dave feels like all of his braincells have vanished, because his head feels foggy and empty and he’s still heaving for air as he looks up at his Commander, unaware of the stupid, fucked-out expression on his face, a thin sheen of sweat on his skin.

  
  


Eridan closes his eyes, knits his brows, and bites down on his lower lip as Dave finishes inside of him, trying his best not to let out a moan.

He can’t. He can’t moan for a  _human_ , much less his new  _servant_ . Even as his cool nook is heated up with Dave’s warmth, Eridan can’t reveal how much he enjoys it. No, this is simply a grateful gesture. Nothing more than that.

As Dave collapses back onto the bed, face blank and body sweating, a new idea comes into Eridan’s head. Yet another way to tease and torment his clearly overwhelmed servant.

Without any warning, Eridan pushes himself down the rest of Dave’s cock in one fell swoop, arching his back and letting out a low trill.

  
  


Dave pants heavily, looking up at his Master. He would apologize for not lasting long, but he can’t even fit words together in his  _brain_ , let alone get them out his mouth.

Turns out, it doesn’t matter, because even though he just came, Eridan slams down onto his dick anyway. Dave chokes on a noise of shocked distress- the feeling of Eridan’s nook around him is cool and wet and sucking and it’s gripping his dick perfectly but he just came and his dick is trying to go soft so it  _hurts_ , a sharp-edged pleasure.

“M-aaaster-” Dave whines out, trembling underneath Eridan. “H–ha- I- can’t-”

  
  


Eridan crosses his arms with a frown in what may be the least intimidating display of frustration he’s shown Dave so far, given he’s currently completely naked and fully settled on Dave’s cock.

“Are you trying to disappoint me?” he asks.

Eridan doesn’t pull himself up or begin riding, but he does push downward, grinding down against Dave. His hands go up to explore Dave’s chest and shoulders, feeling over the scars. The fingertips dance over Dave’s nipples, not lingering, providing a brief tease.

  
  


Eridan frowns down at him and Dave’s fucked-out brain whines. All of his higher functions have fled, choked out of him and now being kept out by the overstimulation.

“N-no-” he gasps, and the little rocking back and forth is sending jolts through him that are drawing tiny little gasps as his legs twitch and flinch. “Sorry-” He whines, and tries to roll his hips up, even as his hips shake at the feeling. His dick is mostly soft, but- it’s not getting _all the way_ soft, which is a relief, because it means that he should be able to get hard again.

Eridan’s fingers trace over his body and it’s a soothing touch- helping settle Dave back into his skin. The brush over his nipples makes him gasp in surprise, his dick jumping a little inside his Master’s nook.

  
  


The realignment of Dave’s morals and priorities seems to be working wonders, with Eridan noting Dave’s desperate attempts to get hard again, desperate to please his master as asked. His apologies, his soft, failing attempts at thrusting upward.

 _He’s so_ _**subservient**_ , Eridan notes. Even with Eridan on the receiving end of Dave’s cock, Dave is such a loyal, obedient servant. Eridan smirks at the twitch of Dave’s cock and the breath that escapes his lips at the touch of Dave’s nipples.

“Oh, does that help get you goin’ again?” Eridan asks, brushing his fingers back over his nipples, lightly tracing over them.

  
  


Dave gasps again at the light touch over his nipples. He’s always been disgustingly sensitive there, so the touch throbs through him, light and teasing.

“Pl-ease-” He gasps, still trying to press his hips up enough to actually make his Master feel good. He’s fighting through the knife edged pleasure, even if it feels like he’s shaving off brainpower to do it, becoming stupid so that he can please his Commander.

His dick is getting there, almost completely hard again, so he shifts and plants his heels and tries to fuck up again, getting a little more power behind the motion this time.

  
  


Dave attempts to press up, struggling slightly as he gasps, trying his hardest. It’s a commendable effort, even if it isn’t entirely successful.

“Wwell, I suppose you can get an A for eff— _ngh_ —”

Dave’s harder thrust hits, with more power and strength behind this buck of his hips. Eridan barely manages to keep his voice from cracking or a moan from escaping, cutting himself off with another sharp bite at his lower lip. He closes his eyes, slowly trying to regain control of his breath.

He isn’t going to fall apart like this, not from the measly efforts of his human servant. He can’t.

  
  


Dave’s thrust cut off Eridan’s voice, made an expression cross Eridan’s face that looks  _pleasured_ and Dave wants that, want to give that to his Master.

So he firms up his foothold and rolls his hips upwards- it’s strange, trying to fuck from this position, it’s  _hard_ \- but he manages, driving his cock up into his Master, panting, watching with the anxious, eager gaze of a dog trying to perform a trick and waiting for the response from their owner.

He wants to make his Commander feel good, and if he can do it by fucking him, then that’s what he’ll do- he’ll be a tool for his Commander to get fucked with.

  
  


The noise barely escapes Eridan as he tries to breathe through his nose, in and out. In and out. The sporadic thrusts sent jolts of pleasure through his body for which he wasn’t prepared, balling his fists by his side as he focused on not letting his cold exterior break.

“Is that all you havve in you?” Eridan asked after regaining his composure, reaching down to trace around Dave’s nipples once more.

  
  


His Master is goading him on.  _Teasing_ him.  _Is that all you have?_ No, no it’s not-

Eridan is giving Dave permission to  _show_ him- so Dave will.

“Master-” He whines, and gathers himself up. “Sorry-”

He grabs Eridan and rolls them so that Eridan is underneath him, thighs spread wide, and Dave pants, feels dizzy from the strangeness of having his Commander  _underneath him_ , but it’s alright, his Commander still has his leash, he’s still obeying his Master.

So he moans and presses his face to Eridan’s shoulder (not his neck, not his neck- don’t go near his neck-) and starts fucking, panting and gasping as his hips work, snapping in sharp, uneven, eager thrusts- like a puppy, humping it’s Master’s leg.

"Master-  _Master-_ " Dave moans, the wet slapping of his hips meeting Eridan’s spurring him on, the  _shlick_ of his dick pressing in and out of Eridan’s nook making him hump harder, faster, wanting to make his Master feel  _good._

  
  


“Wwhat are you do _oooo_ —” Eridan begins his question when Dave rolls him over, but he can’t complete his thought.

Instead, after his voice raises an octave despite all of his efforts to remain in control, Eridan opts to shut himself up. He cranes his head away from Dave in order to bring a balled fist to his mouth. Eridan bites at his knuckles, suppressing the noises of pleasure he can’t restrain as best as he can.

Eridan didn’t tell Dave to do this. He was just…teasing him. Trying to taunt him. But now…oh  _God_ , now…it’s…he’s…Dave…Eridan can’t complete his thoughts as Dave frantically pounds into his slick nook, dripping wet from arousal.

He’s never done this before. For one of the first times in his career, the commander has found himself out of his depth, in uncharted waters, and having something  _taken_ from him. His other hand balls up in the sheets, clutching onto them as Dave  _deflowers_ his commander’s nook.

  
  


The only way Dave could stop now would be if his Commander made him. He’s fucking roughly into his Commander’s nook- and it’s slick and tight and cool around his dick but Dave can barely think about that over the overwhelming desire to make his Master  _feel good_ .

He can feel the squeezing of his Master’s nook, evidence that his Master  _is_ feeling good, and feel his little trembles running through his body.

“Master-” Dave moans, trying his best, trying his hardest, but he can’t seem to find a rhythm, too fucked-out, too sex-stupid, so his hips fuck in an uneven _smack smack smacksmacksmack smack-_ as he humps desperately, wanting his Master to feel good, wanting his Master to cum.

“Fuck, fuck-” Dave gasps, grabbing at Eridan’s legs, hiking them up for a better angle, allowing him to thrust deeper, harder. “Master? Does it- hhah- does it feel good-?” He whines, wanting, _needing_ to know.

  
  


“Sh-shut u— _ngh_ —”

Before Eridan can complete his order, his legs are being hiked up, and Dave is driving deeper into his nook, his cock slamming against Eridan’s sensitive seedflap.

Eridan grits his teeth, biting down harder on his knuckle to keep quiet. He can feel a small trickle of violet blood from the biting, but he powers through it. His free hand continues to grip the sheets, trying to hold on with an iron grip as Dave erratically thrusts as best as he can.

“Hurry up an’ _finish_ ,” Eridan manages to mutter against his hand in between grunts and gasps.

  
  


Eridan wants him to finish, wants him to cum- his Master hasn’t cum, though- but that’s what Eridan wants, so Dave will obey.

“Okay-” He gasps and shoves in, grinding his cock in deep, panting- he shifts a bit on the bed and then _really_ starts humping, chasing his own pleasure instead of trying to make Eridan feel good. He barely pulls his dick out, maybe an inch, two inches- and then it’s being slammed back in, hips snapping and fucking into his Commander as hard and sloppy as he can get, moaning and panting.

"Mas _ter-_ " He whines as he finally, finally cums, shoving all the way in and grinding, cock jerking and pulsing as he pumps his cum deep into Eridan’s nook.

  
  


Eridan continues to sharply press a hand to his mouth, muffling the gasps, strangled profanities, and choked noises he makes under his breath. The feeling of being on the receiving end, of being  _fucked_ was so foreign to Eridan, so alien to his mind and body. But even if his mind screamed in frustration at being put in this situation due to a backfired attempt at teasing, his body is overwhelmed by the pleasure.

The feeling of Dave’s warmth spilling into him is the final push he needs. Eridan bites down on his knuckle once more as his bulge twitches, violet genetic material falling onto his stomach, chest, and face. His nook tightens around Dave’s cock out of a sheer biological reaction, as if attempting to milk every last drop of his load into Eridan’s nook.

Panting, Eridan slowly comes down off his high, taking his mouth away from his hand.

“Off…get out a’ me, Davve.”

  
  


Dave pants and gasps as he cums, as he fills his Master cum, and he feels like he could purr, feels like he could make all those pretty kinds of noises that Eridan can, only his throat isnt built for it so he just moans.

Then Eridan’s ordering him off so Dave fumbles a little a pulls back, scooting backwards on the bed to give his Commander some space, watching him with a sex-stupid, openly,  _eagerly_ adoring expression, like a dog waiting to see if it had done good.

Eridan is so fucking  _handsome_ , sprawled on the bed and fucked open, coated in his pretty violet cum, his nook soaked and slick coating his thighs.

Dave bites his lip to stop himself from saying something stupid like  _can I clean you up_ when Eridan had very clearly  _just_ told him  _off_ .

  
  


Eridan lays on his back, panting slightly as he catches his breath. Slowly, he works himself to the edge of the bed, stepping off and standing up. He reaches a hand down to cup at his nook, trying to prevent any fluids from leaking out.

“I’ll be back.”

He doesn’t explain any further, instead walking into the bathroom. Rather than opting for the elegant bathtub, he uses the smaller shower in the room, scrubbing his body clean with warm water.

That isn’t going to happen again. That can’t happen again. And Dave has to understand that, even if it is a lesson that must be taught thoroughly.

Minutes pass by, and Eridan enters the bedroom, towel wrapped around his waist. He glances over at Dave, but he says nothing, continuing to walk to the closet. After a quick change into fresh underwear and pajamas, Eridan walks over to the bed, looking down at Dave, arms crossed across his chest.

  
  


Eridan pulls away with barely a word and Dave watches him go to the bathroom. He’s not sure if his Commander is happy or not, he  _did_ cum, Dave felt it- did he make him upset, somehow? Was he not supposed to do that?

Ugh. Higher brain functions are starting to return. Dave hates it. Can’t he just be sex-stupid  _all_ the time? That’s so much simpler.

He flops down on his side, because he’s pretty sure that Eridan wants to clean up in peace, and closes his eyes for a moment.

Mm. Everything smells like his Commander. Especially the pillow, though. Dave shifts to bury his face in it, but that’s not quiet enough so he pulls it in and tucks it between his head and arm and curls around the parts pressed to his torso. Essentially hugging it and resting his head on it at the same time.

He perks up a little as Eridan comes back, but Eridan only glances at him, so Dave stays put. He gets dressed and comes over and oh  _no_ .

He looks upset.

Dave pushes up into a kneeling position, biting his lip. What did he do that upset him?

“Sorry.” He blurts out, the first to crack. “I- Sorry.” He turns his gaze down, waiting for Eridan to punish him. Maybe he’ll be like Bro on a good day _(a distance ache)_ and just smack the shit out of him for being bad? That would be nice.


	7. Chapter 7

Dave is curled up with Eridan’s pillow, then he’s on his knees, and finally, he’s looking down, like he’s in trouble.

 _Fuck_. This isn’t Dave, a champion of humanity, leading figure within the resistance. This is Eridan’s subordinate. Perhaps Eridan should have worded his teasing more carefully…

Eridan’s face softens and he sighs, shaking his head slightly. He strips the fresh pajama shirt off, tossing it aside before clambering onto the bed. He pulls Dave in, pressing Dave’s face to his now-bare chest, stroking a hand through Dave’s hair.

“'s okay. Just not gonna happen again, got it? You’ll be punished for it, but not noww. Not tonight. Got it?” Eridan asked.

  
  


Eridan… just climbs onto the bed and pulls Dave against his chest. Dave doesn’t know what to do with that. He presses his face right over Eridan’s heart.

Oh. He’ll be punished later. He lets out a breath and nods.

“Yes, master.” He murmurs, tucking himself a little more against Eridan’s side. “I’m sorry. What did I do wrong?”

He still doesn’t really know. Did he respond wrongly to Eridan’s goading? Was it the fact he flipped them? Was it something else?

  
  


“I nevver told you to do that,” Eridan replied, running his hand along the back of Dave’s head, petting him. “I wwas simply teasing you. Trying to mess wwith you. Torment you, evven. To see howw you’d respond to it.”

It was the honest truth. In this mental state, Dave doesn’t present much of a threat to Eridan, even if he acknowledged the desire to torment and manipulate.

Dave doesn’t…present much of a threat…

Something about that doesn’t sit right with Eridan. Yes, it’s quite enjoyable to have a broken, obedient, and loyal…follower? servant? pet? But Eridan had also derived enjoyment out of their quarrels, out of besting Dave in their encounters. Now, that challenge is gone.

Perhaps there’d be a way to bring back Dave’s fighting spirit, should Eridan find himself missing it. For now, however, he presses his head down to Dave’s hair, breathing in his scent.

  
  


Dave takes a breath and lets it out, relaxing a little more under Eridan’s petting touch.

“Okay.” He says. The issue is that he did something Eridan didn’t tell him to do- because Eridan was just teasing him, he didn’t _mean_ for Dave to actually take control.

“Okay.” He says again, firmer. “I won’t do it again.”

He tilts his head up and presses a kiss to Eridan’s jaw. “Sorry, Eridan.” He murmurs, settling his head back onto Eridan’s chest.

  
  


“'s okay, Davve. 's okay,” Eridan replies, looking down at Dave as a kiss is pressed to his jaw.

Eridan lightly pulls Dave’s head back from his chest, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on Dave’s forehead in return. He guides Dave’s head back into his chest, resuming the stroking and petting of Dave’s head, soft and gentle with his pet.

“You’re neww to all a’ this. Let’s just get some rest. It’ll be alright.”

  
  


Eridan gives him a kiss on the forehead and tells him it’ll be alright and settles him back down, resuming his petting.

“Yes, Eridan.” Dave murmurs, closing his eyes. He’s not looking forwards to his punishment, but- his Commander will give him what he thinks is fair.

It’s easy enough to curl up against Eridan and drift off into a light sleep, Eridan’s cool form a reassuring presence against his front.

  
  


“Sleep wwell,” Eridan whispers to Dave, feeling warmth from Dave’s human body curled up against his cool skin. It relaxes Eridan as well, helping him drift to sleep.

The next few days are dull but necessary. Eridan shows Dave around the vast ship, allowing him to get a lay of the land for his new home. Dave is sewn a new outfit, something more befitting of an officer aboard the ship than a prisoner. Eridan receives something new as well: a sword. A katana. _The_ katana.

But it’s been improved with some Alternian resources. An obsidian black metal now coats the original steel blade, with violet Alternian script etched into the handle. It now rests in a sheath around Eridan’s waist, ready for use at a moment’s notice.

Beyond the improvements in Dave’s wardrobe and Eridan’s weaponry, however, the days are fairly mundane, given the circumstances. Eridan hasn’t followed through on his promised punishments yet, and no life-altering developments have occurred. The quiet is comforting, but it doesn’t seem like it will last much longer.

At one of their breakfasts, Eridan finds the room quiet, save for the clattering of forks on plates. Dave isn’t speaking, although he seems like he has something on his mind.

“Is something wwrong?” Eridan asks, breaking the silence.

  
  


The next couple of days are… interesting. His Commander integrates him, in a sense, into his closer to normal daily routine. Dave isn’t expected to talk much, mostly follow a step behind and observe, so he mainly keeps his mouth shut as he gets a feeling for how Eridan interacts with his crew and the work he doesn.

It’s all _fascinating_ and Dave itches to help, itches to alleviate some of the (piles of) work on Eridan’s plate. He knows, though, with his low level of knowledge that it’s best to keep his mouth shut for now and watch, start to get a handle on how things work.

He finds himself mourning the loss of his weapon, but he understands. He’s still new. No one on the ship would trust him with a blade or to do any meaningful work, not when he’s a human and a _known_ ex-champion of humanity, no matter how much Eridan’s word may mean amongst his crew.

(Dave has kept a running tally of things to ask Eridan about and, every day over meals and in the bedroom, he finds him asking things to learn more, to clarify why Eridan acted or talked a certain way to _this_ troll but that way to _that_ one- and Eridan patiently indulges all of his questions.)

Dave _is_ pretty happy about the new clothes, honestly, they’re a lot better than his jumpsuits from Before.

(That’s what he always thinks about when he thinks about those chaotic, confusing times. The Before times. Before his Commander plucked him from the disorientating, confusing mess of humanity and gave him a purpose.)

It’s definitely unusual for Dave not to be chattering and asking questions over breakfast, but last night Dave asked about the symbols that trolls wore and got a rundown on what they mean, their connections to their ancestors, and their significance.

Dave doesn’t think he should get his own sign, after all, he’s not a troll, but.

Well.

He’s _Eridan’s_ , isn’t he?

And maybe an idea is spinning in his head and maybe it’s a little strange but Dave finds himself breathless at the idea.

  
  


So Eridan asks if something’s wrong because yeah, of course, a break from the routine of ‘rapid fire questions with Dave’ is going to attract his attention and Dave looks up.

“Not really.” He says, tapping his fork against his mouth. “More contemplative, really. Thinking about something that might be a little bit dumb, I dunno.”

  
  


Eridan has practically given up the blockade on softer words in his lexicon. Simply put, Dave’s absentminded tapping of his fork against his lips is adorable. There’s another part of Eridan that misses the loud-mouthed wisecracks, but this obedient Dave is also a delight to see. Besides, Dave could simply be taking awhile to adjust to his conditioning before beginning to figure out how to incorporate his old habits with his new morals, his new principles.

His reply makes Eridan curious.

“Hm. Wwell, spit it out then, dumb or not. No secrets betwween us, got it?”

  
  


Dave thinks for a moment longer before giving a little shrug and slanting his gaze over to meet Eridan’s.

“Well. Signs are important to trolls, right? So… since I’m _yours_ , shouldn’t I wear your sign somewhere?”

And then, because he’s feeling sly, he leans back in his chair and adds, on a grin, “maybe… permanently?”

  
  


Eridan listens along, nodding slightly. And then the _permanently_ comes, and Eridan chokes on his sip of water. He clears his throat, dabbing at his lips with a napkin.

Permanently. A permanent marker of Eridan’s ownership over Dave. At _Dave’s_ suggestion. The propaganda that could create against the humans, a clear demonstration of one of their leaders’ submission to the trolls…that was the driving force behind Eridan’s decision. It had nothing to do with his own personal desires to see it, to see his mark etched into the skin of Dave. To see him _claimed_ as his own forever.

“Wwhere wwere you thinking?”

  
  


Eridan chokes on his water and Dave grins a little, because flustering his Commander in tiny little ways is the literal best thing in existence.

So he pauses, pretends he’s contemplative even though he’s nothing of the sort, he knows exactly where he wants it, and then, wordlessly, raises a hand and lightly presses a single finger to his left cheekbone, right under the corner of his eye.

  
  


Eridan can already see it in his mind. Two large violet waves adorning the cheek, unable to hide. This wasn’t some personal marking Dave wanted on his back or chest or wrist. Dave wanted everyone to see it. How could Eridan say no to such a request?

However, Eridan can play just as contemplative as Dave. He scratches at his beard for a moment, before taking another bite of food. And another. Washes it down with a sip of water.

“Hm. I suppose that could be arranged. Did you havve a time frame in mind?”

  
  


Dave resists the urge to fidget as Eridan thinks the idea over. His grin gets wider at the agreement and he gives a little shrug. “Whenever’s most convenient, I suppose. Today, maybe?”

Dave really really wants hard, visible proof that Eridan has him. _Owns_ him. Maybe it’s a twisted, knotted thing in his head, but Dave’s always craved _belonging_ and what better proof of belonging is there than being owned?

  
  


Eridan gives a nod of approval at Dave’s suggestion, attempting to return his focus to the food before him. However, his mind is filled with mental images of what Dave would look like with his violet symbol emblazoned on his soft, sensitive human skin. Permanent ownership. However, it would mean the end of Dave’s face as a beautiful blank canvas.

Eridan decides to savor it while he still can, cleaning up his lips with the napkin once more. He reaches over with his hands, grabbing Dave’s face and turning it. Leaning in, he presses a kiss to Dave’s left cheekbone, enjoying the feeling of the soft skin while it was still unmarked. He slowly pulls back, nodding again.

“Right. Let’s go get you that sign, since you seem so eager to display it.”

  
  


Eridan reaches out and takes Dave’s face and _kisses his cheekbone_ and Dave feels his eyes flutter closed, a pleased warmth flooding through him at the clear display of approval.

“Yes, Eridan.” Dave breathes, slowly opening his eyes and looking up at Eridan with unashamed, naked fondness in his gaze. His Commander is indulging in Dave’s wants even though he doesn’t have to do anything of the kind. How could Dave _not_ love him?

  
  


Eridan stands up from the table and helps Dave up to his feet, brushing a few stray crumbs from their uniforms. Just as Eridan prepares to lead them back to his bedroom, he pauses, contemplating another option. He turns to Dave, brushing a thumb over Dave’s left cheekbone.

“Wwhy don’t you lead us back? Showw me howw you’vve learned your wway around here,” he instructs.

It was yet to be seen by Eridan whether Dave was quickly acclimating to his new setting, but he supposed this route wouldn’t be too confusing for the human. After all, they had traveled along this path countless times, hopefully Dave had memorized the path…

Such a thought sticks with Eridan. At one point, it would be horrific for this skilled, elite prisoner to be able to memorize the layout of the ship, to be able to navigate it flawlessly. Now, however, Eridan is actively hoping for that human to be able to lead him around, to demonstrate how much he’s settled into his new life.

His new home.

  
  


Dave leans into the touch of Eridan’s thumb, eyes going half-lidded at the silent affection behind it.

Soon, he’ll be marked. Everyone will see how he’s _Eridan’s_. The idea sends a heady little thrill down his spine and he shivers.

“Yes, my Commander.” Dave breathes and, once Eridan takes his hand back, turns to lead Eridan through the halls. It’s not hard- he’s had the path memorized even during the Before days. He’s always had a good sense of direction, and in this it is no different.

He opens the door to Eridan’s quarters and lets Eridan go first, a pleased little grin on his face at doing what Eridan asks of him.

  
  


Eridan attempted to keep up his prim and proper demeanor, but he couldn’t help the pleased smirk that comes to his face when Dave successfully leads him to their bedroom.

Their bedroom. What a satisfying concept. It was beyond simply bringing Dave to his knees. It was no longer being alone, to have someone by his side who he could completely trust. And, judging by how much Dave desired this marking, someone who trusted Eridan.

“Head to the bathroom, sit on the stool.”

Eridan walks over to one of the drawers in his bedroom, fumbling around the drawers. Eventually, he comes upon it, the tattoo gun he had used to inscribe Imperial identification codes on his troops. It had come naturally to Eridan, a combination of his pinpoint accuracy, attention to detail, and underlying artistic desires. Now, he’d have another chance to use his skills.

He walks into the bathroom, tattoo gun in hand, making his way over to Dave.

  
  


Dave catches the pleased smirk on Eridan’s face and feels himself grinning in response. In Eridan’s private quarters there’s no need for pokerface- it’s just them.

So when his Master orders him to the bathroom, Dave nods and goes to sit, trying not to vibrate out of his skin in anticipation.

A mark. _Eridan’s_ mark, showing who Dave belongs to. A status symbol, showing that he’s wanted. That’ he’s _owned_.

(And hopefully- it’ll be evidence that Eridan won’t ever throw him away. That he’ll keep Dave forever.)

  
  


Eridan walks over to Dave, setting the tattoo gun aside on the nearby countertop. After some more rumbling through cabinets and drawers, Eridan eventually comes back with a few more items, setting them on the floor beside Dave. He settles in.

On Dave’s lap.

Eridan tilts Dave’s head, giving him better access to Dave’s left cheekbone. He reaches down to the floor, grabbing a cotton ball and a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. After wetting the cotton ball in alcohol, it’s dragged across Dave’s cheek, lightly wetting it with the sterilizing agent. After setting the cotton ball and alcohol aside, the tattoo gun is back in Eridan’s hands.

“Be a good boy, try not to squirm or wwhine,” Eridan instructs, beginning to press the needle into Dave’s skin.

  
  


Eridan comes in and Dave is ready, he’s so ready-

and then Eridan _sits in Dave’s lap_ and Dave freezes and has to think really really hard about not getting a boner right now but- holy fuck it’s hard, with Eridan touching him and moving him about so easily.

“Yes, master.” Dave breathes and then he holds still as the gun is lowered to his cheek.

His breath shudders out slowly as the painful prickling erupts across his cheek and he has to let his mouth go slack, eyes sliding closed, as to not clench his jaw and disrupt Eridan’s work.

It hurts, sure- it’s a hot, searing, vibrating pain across his face, but it’s almost… easy to ignore. The weight of Eridan in his lap is grounding, the closeness between them _dizzyingly_ intimate.

 _Owned, owned, owned, owned-_ sings the buzz of the tattoo gun, and the pain throbs through him, a heat that sinks into his bones and-

And ooooooh fuck. He’s hard. Whoops. So much for fighting that boner down.

  
  


As the finishing line comes down on the first wave of Eridan’s symbol, he can feel Dave’s cock pushing up, pressing against Eridan’s rear through their uniforms. Under normal circumstances, that might earn some admonishing for the circumstances. Getting turned on by his master in his lap? Well, that’s far too close to Dave taking things too far when Eridan rode him.

For now, however, Eridan dedicates his full concentration to completing his marking. Besides, this would be torture enough. Dave having to feel his cock strain against his uniform, unable to get any relief, all while the needle inks his skin permanently. The second violet wave cascades up and down in its jagged form, and Eridan eventually finishes inking his mark onto Dave’s cheek.

Eridan grabs a soapy Alternian fluid and a paper towel from the nearby pile of supplies, wiping away the excess ink from Dave’s cheek. He applies an adhesive transparent bandage to Dave’s cheek, before finally working his way off of Dave’s lap.

“Turn around. Take a look.”

  
  


It _is_ torture, with his master in his lap and (although he wouldn’t do anything without permission _anyways_ ) unable to move, with the throbbing, pleasure-pain radiating through him, Dave can only sit there and try not to shiver, just letting it happen as his body _aches_ for Eridan.

Then it’s done. Eridan cleans him up and applies a bandage and _oh_ it’s clear so Dave can see-

There he is in the mirror. Eridan’s mark on his cheek.

Claiming him.

 _Owning_ him.

His lips part as a full-body shudder runs trough him, his cock _throbbing_ in his pants.

“Thank you, master.” Dave breathes, and there are practically hearts in his eyes as he looks to Eridan. “It’s _perfect_.” His fingers come up and hover over the bandage- but don’t touch- and then he’s leaning in and pressing a reverent kiss to Eridan’s jaw.

“I’m _yours_.” He breathes.

  
  


When Eridan sees Dave leaning in, he tilts his head to allow the best access possible for Dave to kiss at his jawline. He gives a nod, reaching up to idly run a hand through Dave’s hair.

“And noww evverybody wwill knoww you’re mine,” Eridan replied, bringing his hand down to brush a thumb over Dave’s right cheek. “From the simplest, quickest glance at you.”

He pulls away from Dave to clean up, stocking the various supplies in the cabinets beneath the sink. After a quick trip to the bedroom to return the tattoo gun, Eridan returns, arms crossed over his chest as he looks Dave over. _Still hard, huh?_

“Bend ovver the counter, landdwweller.” Eridan’s tone is stricter. _Commanding_.

  
  


Dave’s eyes flutter closed at the brush of his Master’s thumb because yes, just a glance is all it takes, everyone will know-

his breath leaves in a shaky exhale as his eyes flutter back open, watching Eridan put everything away.

Oh. Oh yes, _please_.

“Yes, master.” Dave breathes and does exactly that- widening his stance just a little to give himself firm footing as he bends over the bathroom counter. He wiggles a little- his dick had started to soften but it’s back to all the way boner because Eridan is probably-

No, he shouldn’t assume.

But god, Dave _hopes_ that Eridan fucks him.

  
  


Eridan closes the distance, pressing up against Dave from behind. The growing, writhing tent in his pants presses against Dave’s rear, and Eridan begins to rock his hips back and forth, grinding against Dave through their uniforms.

“Look at yourself in the mirror, so fucking needy, aren’t you?” Eridan asks.

He steps back, hands moving to the pants of Dave’s uniform. He tugs them—and Dave’s briefs—down in one swift move, revealing his pale, soft ass. It had been far too long since Eridan had properly gotten to use it completely and thoroughly. Not since…was it really the first night here? Before Eridan could alleviate that urge, he had a punishment to give.

A hand reaches forward to grip Dave’s blond hair, holding Dave’s head up to stare into the mirror. His other hand comes down swiftly and firmly, spanking Dave’s bare ass with a firm smack.

  
  


Yes yes yes oh please, let Eridan fuck him. The press of his bulge against Dave’s ass is _tantalizing_ , so teasing- but Eridan gave Dave an order so Dave obeys, he looks at himself in the mirror and- fuck, he really _does_ look needy. His face is flushed, Eridan’s brand on his cheek marking him as _owned_ (and doesn’t _that_ send a heady throb through his gut), and Eridan’s reflection behind him only further makes him look like a slut about to be fucked.

“Y-Yes, Master-” Dave breathes and sucks in a quick breath of anticipation as his pants are tugged down. The hand in his hair makes him go still, a squirmy pleasure in his belly, and-

_smack_

Dave gasps, a surprised noise that slips from his throat as his ass is smacked hard enough to send a tingling jolt through him.

“Oh, fuck-” He moans, “M-master?” His tone is confused, but pleasured, as he tries to ask what’s going on without actually asking.

  
  


“Don’t you remember that punishment I promised a feww evvenings ago, Davve?” Eridan asks, bringing his hand down once more. “For acting up wwithout my permission?”

Another spank. And another. Letting go of Dave’s head, he sinks his hands into Dave’s ass, kneading and groping at the reddening flesh. He spreads Dave’s cheeks apart, before letting go, toying and teasing Dave. Tormenting Dave.

“Are you sorry for misbehavving? For being bad?”

Eridan’s questions are punctuated by a low trill, complementing his deep, commanding voice. It’s music to Eridan’s ears, as self-absorbed as that is. The pure contrast between his confident, aggressive tone and Dave’s confused, pleased _whines_ and gasps goes straight to Eridan’s bulge, writhing in his uniform. His hands briefly leave Dave’s ass to drop his own pants and boxers, letting the violet tendril wriggle free from its constraints. Pushing forward, he keeps his hips still and allows his bulge to move against Dave’s ass, instinctively twisting and pressing against the soft flesh.

  
  


The _punishment_ -? Oh. _Oh!_

Everything suddenly makes sense and Dave nods quickly, relaxing now that he knows why.

“Yes, Master.” Dave breathes, little moans jolted from his throat as the smacks reverberate through him, sparks of pain that betray a heady, strong, throbbing pleasure that’s starting to build. “A-ah- fuck-” He whines as his ass is grabbed, as Eridan plays with the pink cheeks, making him feel the punishment all that more.

Even though Eridan’s let go of his head, Dave doesn’t look away from the mirror, watching each shift and whorish change to his expression, embarrassing and desperate for his Master.

Eridan’s deep trill sinks into him. A low _ch-hhrr-rrr-hr-kk-kk-k_ that reverberates in his bones. Dave swears that it’s so low it slides right out of hearing range of humans but he feels his soul vibrate in response, his chest going tight and hot. Eridan’s seadweller noises just _grab_ his brain and make him feel things. He whines in response, pressing his hips back into Eridan’s touch.

“I’m sorry, Master-” Dave moans, but then Eridan’s bulge is there, against his ass, and he freezes, a hope sparking through him, panting as his heart pounds.

“Master-” he whines, when Eridan doesn’t do anything, just lets his bulge press against him, and rocks his hips back. “Please- fuck me, I want it-”

  
  


Eridan looks up from Dave’s ass, making eye contact with Dave through their reflections. His face reveals mock contemplation, coupled with a soft " _tsk tsk_ " from Eridan. However, he does take another step closer to giving Dave what he wants. But Eridan doesn’t quite go there yet.

Instead, he pushes his writhing bulge between Dave’s cheeks, using his hands to hold them closer together. Watching Dave’s expression intently, Eridan begins to draw his hips back, before bucking them forward. He establishes a rapid pace, thrusting his bulge between Dave’s cheeks. With every push forward, his slick bulge slides and wriggles against Dave’s entrance, but never pushes in.

“Howw— _fuck_ —badly do you wwant this, wwhore?” Eridan asks, letting out another low trill from sheer pleasure.

  
  


Dave watches Eridan in the mirror, watches the expression on his face and _moans_ as Eridan’s bulge twists between his cheeks- and then Eridan starts _thrusting_ , letting his bulge fuck against Dave- but not pushing it in.

" _So_ badly, master, please-" Dave gasps, bracing himself against the counter to not be shoved forwards by Eridan’s thrusts, moaning at the trill. “Please, I want it, master, I’ve been good, haven’t I? Please, I wanna be fucked, _god_ -”

  
  


Eridan brings himself to a halt, planting his hands on Dave’s hips. His bulge presses and prods at Dave’s hole, never quite pushing in. Another soft _tsk tsk_ comes from Eridan as he shakes his head slightly, forcing himself to frown to keep up the facade of disappointment.

“You did misbehavve the other evvening, did you not? I wwouldn’t say that’s you being a good boy,” he replies. “But…you seem to havve realized wwhat you did wwas wwrong. I can showw you leniency, I suppose.”

Eridan bucks his hips forward, the tip of his writhing bulge pushing into Dave’s hole. Gripping onto Dave’s hips for support and leverage, he begins to push in, feeling Dave’s body cling around the intrusive tendril wriggling within him.

  
  


Dave goes still but for a light shiver of excitement as he feels Eridan’s bulge prodding at his hole. He nods a little, eager, as though acknowledging _yeah, I was bad, but I realized, I’m good-_

Only to moan as Eridan thrusts forwards and shoves his bulge inside. Dave goes up on his toes a little bit from the shove, his eyes fluttering closed in bliss as his hole is stretched open around his master’s bulge.

He’s tight and squeezing and it’s filling him full and stretching him out- with no prep, the tip of Eridan’s bulge goes in easily but the more that’s stuffed in and the wider it gets the more it aches and the more it makes Dave’s face flush and his stomach heat up.

" _Fuck_ , Master…" Dave breathes, opening his eyes and watching Eridan in the mirror with an aroused neediness. “Feels so good, getting stuffed full…” He moans, panting softing.

  
  


Eridan continues to push forward, letting out a soft, satisfied groan as he fully buries his bulge inside Dave. However, he can already tell he’s going to need to reposition himself if he wants to fully indulge in his desires. This position is nice, but it could be much, much better.

Without warning, Eridan moves a hand up from Dave’s hips to his head, firmly gripping a patch of hair. He pushes Dave’s head down against the bathroom countertop, pressing the side of Dave’s head against the counter. It was made of an Alternian mineral, smooth, cool, and obsidian in color, all pressed directly against Dave’s cheek as Eridan held Dave’s head down. After pressing Dave’s head in place, Eridan finally steps out of his pants and boxers from around his ankles, and begins to reposition himself.

Eridan plants his left foot on the countertop, knee bent, while maintaining his right foot on the bathroom floor. The new angle, practically mounting Dave, will allow him to drive in deeper and harder, at a faster pace and with less effort for Eridan. And he doesn’t wait a second.

A draw of the hips back is followed up by a harsh snap of the hips forward, and Eridan begins to repeat this process. He’s not holding back, driving into Dave with a harsh, fast pace. He says nothing, his mind focused only on the frail, broken human beneath him, and the only sounds that come from his mouth are instinctual groans and trills.

  
  


Eridan fists his hand in Dave’s hair and pulls a moan from his throat as Dave is filled to the hilt, his hole spreading wide around his Commander’s bulge. It aches deep and firm and _good_ , the slick, strong muscle pushing him open and forcing his hole to yield to his Master, turning him into the perfect pet.

He’s shoved down against the counter and Dave goes without protest- he’ll go anywhere his Master wants, be whatever he wants-

And then Eridan _mounts_ him, plants a foot on the counter, adjusting his position, and _fucks_ into him. Dave’s voice breaks as Eridan starts driving his bulge into him, hard and fast and _brutal_ . “Mm- hahn- hah- hahh- _Ma-aa-h-ster-_ go- _od_ -” His whines and desperate noises climb in pitch and volume, accompanied by the wet _slapslapslapslap_ of Eridan’s thrusts, their hips colliding with every thrust.

Dave’s feet kick out uselessly, held in place by the counter and _overwhelmed_ by how strong and rough Eridan is being, taken over by the _heady_ pleasure being punched into his gut with every thrust, turning him into a mindless, drooling whore for his Commander.

" _Pl-eease,_ please- Ma-aaah-ster- Ma- hah- haaa _aaa_ \- aa-sterrr-" Dave sobs and whines and begs, so thoroughly dominated that, in the moment, not a single person from Earth would recognize the desperate, slutty pet of the Commander being fucked as a Champion of humanity.

  
  


Eridan lets out a dull noise somewhere between a groan and a scream, with the low, droning pitch of the former and the intensity and bone-shaking strength of the latter. It’s the first time he’s made a seadweller mating noise since breaking Dave, and the sound is rawer, more animalistic than those he emitted previously. Eridan has to divert some focus on holding those primal urges back, the desire to grip Dave’s head by the hair to lift and smash it against the counter, to grab his throat and squeeze until he’s sputtering for breath, to make him beg for mercy. But he manages to stave off those urges.

Instead, he continues to drive himself deeper into Dave’s ass. His bulge twists and writhes with every movement, intent on dragging itself along Dave’s prostate, on sliding its slicked muscle against that spot to make Dave crack and break. Eridan’s hips smack against Dave’s with increasing power, the bathroom filled with the sound of their bodies colliding as if animals in heat, aggressively, furiously mating without a care for much else. In another positioning, Eridan would love nothing more than staring down at Dave’s ass bouncing with every push. Here, he settles for staring forward into the mirror, watching Dave’s body twitch and heave with every thrust from Eridan and every sob from Dave.

“Fuckin’ useless… _wwhore_. Wwant me to finish inside…don’t you?” Eridan manages to snap in between mating noises and grunts, knowing fully well Dave will be unable to coherently respond in his current state.

But why not let him try? Why not let him embarrass himself further as he chokes on his words and cries for his _Master_?

  
  


The _noise_ that rattles through Dave makes his eyes roll back and his everything going tight and he _swears_ he’s cumming, but nothing’s happening, just his body shaking and going tight and his cock throbbing but no cum is coming out, it’s a _filthy_ good pleasure sinking right into his brain and he sobs, he claws at the counter and his feet keep slipping, he wants to push into Eridan’s thrusts but his master is too strong, too fast- Dave can’t even arch up into one before he’s being fucked back down against the counter.

It’s all too much, he’s being shoved right on through pleasure and into _ecstasy_ , brain melting and being reformed like play dough under Eridan’s relentless fucking.

He wants it. He wants it wants it wants Eridan’s cum, wants his master to fill him up, wants to be useful for his master and make him feel good.

He sobs and gasps out noises as each thrust rocks through him, fucked stupid by his Commander, by his Master, by his _whole world_ \- by _Eridan._

“Yuh- huh-hh-h _pl-ease_ m-hah-aa-aster- ye- _ahhhh_ , ple- _EASE_ , pleas-eee _ee_ -”

  
  


Eridan can feel the knot building in his abdomen, his climax rapidly approaching. But this position is no longer satisfying him, and he wants Dave to watch the climax.

He takes his foot off the counter, planting it back on the ground. Dave’s head is pulled back up from the counter, but he isn’t granted much reprieve. Instead, he wraps one arm around Dave’s neck, his other hand planting itself on the back of Dave’s head, putting the human in a headlock facing the mirror as Eridan bucks forward with one final, heavy thrust of his hips.

The pressure on Dave’s neck tightens as Eridan holds him intensely, his climax coursing through his body. His toes curl against the floor of the bathroom as his bulge twitches inside Dave, pumping thick, cool genetic material deep into Dave’s warm body. The contrast between their body temperatures was _wrong_. Eridan was a seadweller, a member of the highest castes, meant to interact only with equally coolblooded trolls per Alternian decrees. Dave’s warm walls clenched around Eridan’s cool bulge, and the taboo of it all drives Eridan further as he trills and groans without any semblance of restraint, letting out a cacophony of noises likely heard across this deck of the ship.

  
  


His Commander yanks him up and Dave cracks his eyes open as the arm goes around his throat, meeting his own gaze in the reflection.

A desperate sob is _punched_ out of him as Eridan slams home, forcing Dave up onto his toes from the force of it, speared open on his Master’s bulge, his face red and his mouth slack and expression desperately, _desperately_ whorish in the mirror.

“h-uhhuu-uhh-hu-h” Dave gasps and sobs out, arms hanging limply at his sides as his Master pumps him full of cum, cool liquid flooding through his belly, heavy in his gut-

But it’s the _noises_ that Eridan makes, vibrating right down to his very soul, that finally make it happen, finally make Dave cum, the pleasure hitting him like a sledgehammer as his cock jerks and spurts, a distinct sensation of something _tearing_ in his brain as everything slides away, there’s just the feeling of his Master using him, breeding him like the slut he is, his Master’s slut- he feels so fucking full, stuffed full with Eridan’s bulge and cum and-

" _Er-iiiidan-_ " Dave sobs out, trembling, barely able to force his mouth to move to shape the noises, fucked _stupid_.

  
  


Eridan lets his climax ride through his body, bulge depositing every last drop of his cool load inside of Dave’s body. It scratches a primal itch, a desire to breed. The way Dave grips around him, the sounds he makes, the mindless look on his face, all of it etches itself into Eridan’s mind, saving a mental snapshot of the utterly ruined state in which the human has found himself.

Eventually, the last ropes of his load are pumped into Dave, and Eridan begins to pull himself out. He lowers Dave back down to rest against the counter, unsure if Dave will be able to support his own weight—physically or mentally—at this point. Eridan walks over to the bathtub, bulge dripping with genetic material, and begins to fill the tub up.

“Gotta clean off before wwe do anythin’ else today, got it?” he asks over his shoulder to Dave.

Eridan isn’t even certain if he’s going to get an answer or if Dave’s still in his orgasmic stupor, but it was worth a shot to ask.

  
  


Eridan fills him up with what feels like _gallons_ of cum, pumping him full while keeping him pinned, keeping him right where he wants Dave- and Dave is much to fucked out to say anything otherwise.

Not that he would.

His Commander lowers him down against the counter again and Dave leans against it gratefully, head full of fog and legs shakingly weak.

He can only pant, wet and heavy, his heart racing in his chest from exertion. When Eridan talks, he can only manage a “mm-hm…” of acknowledgement.

Fuck.

Eridan wants him to be able to _do_ things today? That might be a problem. Dave is pretty sure that he’s been so fucked out that he won’t be able to use any higher brain functions for…

Uh…

Apparently estimation is a higher brain function. For a _while._

  
  


Eridan twists the faucet off as the tub fills up, glancing over at Dave. He’s leaning against the counter, violet genetic material dripping out of his hole, running down his legs, and dripping onto the floor. There’s an inkling of desire to plug him up, to leave him stuffed full like that, but Eridan decides a bath would be best for the both of them. He lets the excess genetic material continue to drip from Dave, making a mental note to clean it up later. Meanwhile, he works off his uniform’s top, setting it aside with his pants and underwear.

After waiting long enough for the flow of genetic material to slow down, Eridan picks Dave up and carries him over to the tub. If talking was barely manageable for Dave, Eridan figured he wouldn’t wait to see about walking. Instead, he lowers Dave into the warm water before joining him, letting out a content sigh as the hot water warms his cool body.

“Howw’d that feel?”

He can’t help it, can’t hold back the desire to watch Dave struggle to string thoughts together. The _fucked-stupid_ angle is just as rewarding, satisfying, and intoxicating as the _electrocuted-stupid_ angle when Dave still needed that pesky shock collar.

  
  


His Master is nice and picks him up, doesn’t make him walk on legs that would absolutely collapse. The warm water is _heavenly_ , chasing away the aches away as they try to form, and he immediately tucks himself against Eridan’s side with a soft, happy noise.

“Mmmmm.” Dave hums softly, happily- everything’s still too fucking floaty for him to even _begin_ to put words together. Eridan broke his fucking brain.

So instead he smooths a hand over Eridan’s chest and down his torso, fingers curling over his side and settling just above his hips, nuzzling softly against Eridan’s shoulder before arching up to press kisses to his jaw.

He manages to pull words together to get out a, “so… fuckin’ good, master…” soft and breathy, before his grasp on language slips away again and he’s left full of fog, heavy and warm and pleasant and he’s so fucking in love with Eridan it’s stupid. He’s so in love. He loves Eridan so much, loves his Master, loves his Commander- Eridan is his _everything._

  
  


Eridan closes his eyes and lets out a sigh—one leaning more towards annoyance than satisfaction—as Dave cuddles against him, kisses him, and holds him close. Eridan has work to do and his… _pet_ is clinging to him with an intense need. He can’t help but shake his head slightly at Dave’s hazy words, letting out another sigh. With Dave clinging to him like this, he isn’t able to just dunk his head under the water to wet it. Instead, he cups his hands underwater, tilts his head back, and runs the water through his hair.

“Yes, it wwas,” Eridan curtly replies, beginning to run shampoo through his hair. “Noww, I havve wwork to do and you’re clearly in too pathetic a condition to join me. So you’ll be staying here for the day after wwe bathe.”

  
  


Eridan’s curt tones slides off of Dave like water on a duck’s back. He sees it, realizes that Eridan is being prickly- and can’t bring himself to care.

So he hums an affirmative and nuzzles against Eridan’s shoulder. He slips down in the water a bit to try and avoid hampering Eridan’s movements as much as possible, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Love you.” Dave murmurs, lips barely above the waterline. “So good t’me…”

His fingers slowly slide over Eridan’s side- he’s so tired and fucked out but he wants to touch his Commander, wants to make sure that Eridan knows how much Dave loves him, how good Eridan is to Dave… wants to make his Master feel as loved and worshipped as Dave does right now.

  
  


Eridan pauses for a moment after hearing Dave’s soft murmurs, before resuming his self-care routine. He cups some more water in his hands, rinsing the shampoo from his hair.

“…Yes. I suppose I am. You’re wwelcome,” Eridan replies, blinking water from his eyes.

Eridan feels Dave’s touches, his loving movements, but he doesn’t bother responding. Not verbally, at least. His fins give a twitch here and there out of sheer instinct, completely involuntarily. Eridan attempts to maintain his focus on cleaning up his hair while Dave holds onto his body. He finishes with conditioner, before moving onto the final stage of washing his body.

“Noww, can you be useful and clean my back off wwhen I turn around, Davve?”

  
  


If humans could purr then Dave would be rumbling up a storm, nuzzling into Eridan, pressing soft little kisses to the hollow of his shoulder and over his Commander’s collarbone.

He perks up, though, making a happy ‘mm-hmm’ noise, as Eridan asks Dave to wash his back- so he grabs at the soap and shuffles backwards, letting Eridan turn to give him his back. He works it between his hands and-

Well, his Master makes him feel so good- so good in fact, that Dave is pretty sure he can’t walk. He wants to make Eridan feel good, too.

He carefully starts washing down Eridan’s back, pressing just a little on the firm side- and then he finds a knot in Eridan’s muscle and he presses down, rubbing in hard, firm circles as he works it out.

He wants to make Eridan feel good, wants to make his Commander happy and feel relaxed and taken care of and as loved as Dave feels. Dave is his perfect little pet and he’s going to do _everything_ in his power to make sure that Eridan knows how much Dave loves him so Eridan is about to get the best goddamn backwash/massage of his _life_.

  
  


Eridan’s hands jump to the sides of the tub, gripping tightly as Dave’s hands press into the knot in his back. As Dave works the knot out, he elicits a low, satisfied groan from Eridan, his eyes closing as his body feels so _good_. The knot had been there for days, And Dave works it out so quickly, so thoroughly, and so carefully, moving along to the next spot of tension.

" _Fuck_ ," Eridan can’t help but let out another groan, the pleasure overwhelming his restraint.

But he takes control once more. He clears his throat, loosens his grip on the tub, and brings his arms back to his sides.

“Mm. Thank you. Your servvice is appreciated.”

  
  


Dave knows he has a dopy smile on his face as he works, accepting his Commander’s thanks.

“Of course.” He murmurs. “Love you, sir.” He decides to push his luck and, as his fingers work firmly at Eridan’s lower back to work those muscles out into a relaxed state, he leans in and presses a tiny little kiss against the back of Eridan’s neck.

“Anything for you.” Dave breathes.

He’ll do anything for Eridan.

Anything.

His Master plucked him from a dizzyingly confusing world and freed the hundred little tangled strings keeping him trapped- and then gave him a single collar and chain to keep him steady.

He’s never been more pinned down. He’s never been more _free._

  
  


“Thank you,” Eridan replies again, curt once more after feeling the kiss pressed against his neck.

Dave finishes washing and massaging Eridan’s back, working out the knots and scrubbing his back. Eridan is more than capable of scrubbing down the front side of his body, but having Dave’s hands do the work…it allowed him to relax. To not have to worry anymore.

“Noww the front,” Eridan orders, turning around to face Dave once more.

  
  


Eridan turns around to let Dave wash his front and Dave hums a little in agreement- he’s still feeling sleepy and fucked out, but he wouldn’t give up this for the best naps in the world- getting to clean his Commander up and make sure he feels good is the _best_ fucking gift Eridan could give him.

So Dave soaps his hands up again and gets to work- he doesn’t do a massage, here- but he makes sure to worship ever inch of his Master’s front, smoothing his fingers in gentle circles to wash away any sweat or dirt present, expression soft and reverent as he works.

When he finishes, he cups water in his hands and brings it up to rinse Eridan’s chest off carefully, leaning in and kissing the hollow of his shoulder when he’s all done.

“Anywhere else, Master?” Dave asks.

  
  


“No, that wwould be all. Take care a’ yourself noww,” Eridan instructs, clambering out of the tub.

Eridan grabs a towel, drying off while he watches Dave. He figures if Dave is capable of washing his master, he should be able to do it to himself as well. He watches Dave with mild curiosity, but he primarily focuses on drying his body and hair. After drying off sufficiently, he gets back in his uniform, approaching the edge of the bathtub once more.

“Are you finished? I’m gonna lay you dowwn wwhile I handle matters about the ship. Just…don’t make a mess a’ things or be a nuisance, please.”

  
  


Dave nods in response to Eridan’s order and grabs the soap again, washing himself down in a much more efficient manner. He doesn’t bother with shampoo, his hair is clean enough. His motions are still a touch sluggish with exhaustion from being so fucked out, and he’s pretty sure that right now if he tries to stand he still wont be able to keep himself up.

He does as his Master commands and so, when Eridan comes back to the bath, Dave is finishing rinsing off.

He nods in response to Eridan’s question. “Of course.” He says, and hauls himself up out of the bathtub- a little clumsily as his arms shake.

He lets Eridan dry him off and bring him into the bedroom, accepting easily whatever level of dress Eridan puts him into- and curls up on the bed where Eridan puts him. He lets him sink back into that post-orgasm haze now that he’s done his duty and made his Commander clean and feeling good, so he smiles sappily up at Eridan.

“Love you, Master.” He murmurs…

  
  


Eridan dries Dave off and carries him back to the bed, putting in a decent amount of work. He knows Dave is weak right now. Weaker than usual, that is. So he takes care to ensure his pet doesn’t hurt himself while walking or trying to stand. He guides Dave to the bedroom and sits him on the edge of the bed, still nude, and looks down at him.

 _Love you, Master._ , Dave says.

“Hm.”

Eridan walks away from the bed, but he doesn’t head out into the main area of the deck. Instead, he walks to the closet, coming back with a pair of tight briefs and a small box in his hands. He helps Dave into the briefs, hand tracing over Dave’s rear and how tightly the underwear hold his perfect form. Reaching over to the nightstand, Eridan grabs Dave’s shades and slips them onto his face. Finally, the box is opened.

There’s a new collar inside. It isn’t technological, no capabilities to send volts through Dave’s body. No, it’s a traditional collar. It’s violet, with a small bow tie at the front of the collar, adorned with a silver bell. Eridan’s fingers wrap it around Dave’s neck, securing it in place. He steps back, looking down at Dave.

“Wwhat do you think?”

  
  


His Master puts a new collar on him and it’s… light. It’s almost _gentle_ against his skin, and-

Dave shifts and the bell chimes sweetly and Dave thinks

_Oh._

He blinks up at Eridan and flushes in pleasure, bringing a hand up to curl against it, feeling it under his fingers as he ducks his head a little bit.

“It’s perfect.” Dave says softly. “Thank you, Master.”

He shifts and the bell chimes again and it’s so delicate and sweet and even as Dave thinks, _I need to learn to move without it chiming,_ he also hears the sound echoing in his brain and making him not want to think at all because his Master has him, owns him, loves him.

  
  


“You’re vvery wwelcome, my pet,” Eridan replies, brushing stray blond locks from Dave’s face. “Noww, I must be going. Get some rest, you wwon’t be lounging about _all_ day today.”

With that, Eridan turns from Dave and walks out of the room, leaving his pet behind.

Eridan makes his way to the main deck of the ship, chatting with passerby seamen along his way. He enters the bridge of the ship, settling into his chair at the center of the room. The daily routine is a breeze: check on active conflicts in Eridan’s theatre of war, read and respond to cables sent from the Alternian bureaucracy, perform the weapons diagnostics checks, update his own log of events, the like. However, there comes an interruption.

“Commander Ampora, we’ve rece!ved !ntell!gence on the ground that may be of your !nterest. We’ve !dent!f!ed one of the last holdouts of res!st!ng forces, and we’re prepar!ng potent!al offens!ve proposals. How would you l!ke us to proceed, s!r?”

Eridan nods, his hands steepling. It doesn’t take much time for him to make a decision.

“No lethal force, lieutenant. I wwant them alivve. I wwant _prisoners_.”

Eridan returns to his quarters hours later, immediately making his way over to Dave. He stands at the edge of the bed, looking down at the human, glancing him over.

“Howw are you feeling?”


	8. Chapter 8

Eridan leaves him be with a gentle touch to the forehead and Dave leans into it, watching his Commander go.

Dave is left alone.

He immediately turns and presses his face into Eridan’s pillow and inhale, exhaling in pleasure at the scent of his Master, thick and strong.

The bath helped, but now with nothing to distract him Dave can feel the ache of being fucked so thoroughly resurface. It feels good, so Dave lets himself sink into that feeling and wrap himself up in blankets and doze lightly, drifting in a not-quite awake state.

Eridan is so good. Dave loves Eridan so fucking much it’s unreal. His Master is everything- and Dave wants to give himself up to Eridan in every way possible.

He’s proven himself that he can make his Commander feel good- he took his Master’s fucking like a  _champ_ and made him cum- and he washed his Master down and helped him relax.

Dave’s place as a pet is secured. That should be enough, being Eridan’s pretty little bedwarmer, but-

Toys get worn out and tossed aside. Dave is  _greedy_ . He could let himself sink into his hazy, happy fog of serving his Master and being a plaything for him, being a pet forever and not ever having to think again-

But Dave doesn’t want that. He wants to be more than just a  _pet_ to Eridan- he wants to be his Master’s pet but- he also wants to be useful to his  _Commander_ . He wants Eridan to look at him with pride for serving him, not just be praised for getting fucked- something that  _anyone_ could do.

Dave curls up on the bed, a warm determination flickering through him.

He’ll do it. He’ll show Eridan that Dave is more than just a pet- he’s  _useful._ He’s worthy of serving under Eridan as a crew member.

~~Maybe even his right hand~~

~~Don’t get ahead of yourself, Dave.~~

So when Eridan comes back, Dave raises his head and smiles fondly at him, but waits to speak until Eridan’s come over.

Once Eridan does, he shifts up to his knees ( _chime_ , goes the bell) and looks up at him with a calm adoration.

“I’m good, Master.” He says.

  
  


“Good boy,” Eridan replies, reaching down to tap at the bell, letting it softly ring once more.

Eridan moves his hand up, running his fingers along Dave’s cheek and up into his hair. He scratches at Dave’s scalp, before moving to scratch behind an ear. He’s probing Dave just as much as he is rewarding him, wanting to see how Dave presses into his touch, how he accepts being a pet. But there’s something else in him, a peppy energy about him that wasn’t there when Eridan had left. It seems Dave got some rest, and he seemed eager now.

“Wwould you be able to dress yourself? I’vve got something planned for you. Your lil’ bout a’…mindlessness required a change of plans, but I believve I found a wway for you to make it up to me. So get dressed, noww.”

  
  


Dave shivers at the little ring, the chime echoing so sweetly and making his eyelids flutter.

“Of course.” He murmurs, tilting his head into the touch, making no move to pull away until Eridan takes his hand back- and then he’s slipping off the bed and hunting down his clothes and pulling them on. He slips into the bathroom to check his face (bandage still secure and he smooths his fingers over it for a moment with a smile), and then comes back and stands in front of Eridan expectantly.

Collar still on.

Eridan said to  _get dressed_ , not to take the collar off.

  
  


Eridan nods, looking Dave over. He expected Dave to take the collar off, but there’s a slight twinge of satisfaction when he sees it still secured around Dave’s neck. Completely loyal, even taking care to not do anything Eridan hasn’t instructed of him. As a sort of reward, Eridan reaches forward, tapping the silver bell to elicit another chime.

“Followw me,” Eridan instructs, walking Dave out of the room.

They take a new path, one Eridan had shown to Dave once or twice before. It was hidden away from most of the other crew, left primarily as a training area for Eridan to blow off steam when particularly angered or pent-up. Now, however, it would serve as a training area for Dave. To show his Master what he’s capable of. Eridan ushers Dave into the room, closing the door behind them.

An oliveblood stands in the middle of the room, wearing a sports bra and a pair of gym shorts. On her hands are a pair of gloves, with modifications made to them. There are blunt rods attached to the knuckle area, as if she had filed-down claws. She lights up when Eridan enters the room with her opponent, a human.

“Davve, this is Nep. She’ll be helping you train in some a’ the forms of fighting more unique to troll combat,” Eridan explains, walking away from Dave. He approaches a rack of weaponry, picking out a bo staff made of wood harvested from trees on Alternia. He returns to Dave, places the weapon in his hands, and walks away, sitting in a nearby chair to observe.

“Noww, fight.”

  
  


Dave shivers in excitement at the little tap to the bell.  _Chime._ Fuck, that’s so good. He tries to keep his response under control, though, because Eridan’s leaving and Dave’s following behind obediently.

The bell chimes with each step- and each time Dave has to stop himself from grinning. He experiments with his walking as they go, adjusting his sway, the way he holds himself, the sizes of his steps- and he  _does_ grin when he figures out how to walk without making the bell sound.

Perfect.

He glides after Eridan silently, and then deliberately shifts to make the bell chime, nice and sweet in the silence.

It’s perfect.

He follows Eridan obediently, wondering where they’re going- it’s familiar, but not familiar enough to recognize it. They come to a room with an olive blood already there- Dave’s seen her around. He’s always been bad with names, but he’s pretty sure hers starts with a N? Ne… Nel… Nem… ah, whatever. Sorry olive girl. He’ll just call her N until he hears her name said by someone else.

Those gauntlets though- whoof. They look like they’ll  _hurt_ .

Oh. Nep. Okay. Her name’s Nep. Wow, Dave should really just learn to be patient.

Fighting. Eridan wants him to  _fight._ Dave straightens up a touch, accepting the staff. It’s light and, as he spins it, he can tell it’s exquisitely balanced.

Holy shit. This is a test. Dave takes a breath.

_Chime._

He can do this. He won’t disappoint his Commander.

(Dave wishes it was a sword, so he could show Eridan what he can  _really_ do- but he’s a good fucking fighter. He can fight with pretty much anything.)

He grips the staff lightly in his hands as he stares Nep down, waiting for the call. She’s giving him bouncy, catlike vibes- the claws, something in the way she holds herself and  _wow she is coming right at him._

She’s fast- but Bro was faster so Dave shifts to the side, ( _chime_ ) redirects her swiping claws on the staff, forcing her to continue on past him. He turns to follow her, not wanting her anywhere behind him because he’s not  _stupid_ .

That’s a good decision because Nep hits the floor, rolls, and bounces right back up to swipe at him again. Dave stays largely on the defensive as he gets used to the range and weight off the staff- and getting used to the tiny little shiver that threatens to distract him with every little  _chime_ .

He’s getting confident enough to start reading her motions- so he goes on the offense. The next time she comes in, he deflects again and brings the staff whirling, cracking across her back. She tumbles, bounces to her feet like the hit was nothing- and her expression is sharp and delighted.

It’s less like a dodging match, now- and more of a back and forth, trading hits, Nep picking up the pace with a manic energy now that Dave’s fighting back- and Dave matching her hit for hit.

It feels  _good_ , to be on his feet and not thinking- just  _doing_ .

_Clack-swipe-thrust-down-back-forwards-clack-_

The burn is exhilarating, after spending so long doing so little. Swiping the sweat from his forehead, working to outmanuver, outsmart, out _fight_ an opponent- everything narrowing down to the base instincts of  _movement._

And then- he catches Nep across the stomach with a hard blow and she’s tumbling across the floor and landing on her back and she’s  _open_ .

Dave flashsteps forwards, plants a foot on her stomach, and brings the staff down-

and lightly taps it to her neck.

Nep looks up at him with wide eyes, rather like a cat caught off guard.

“Commander?” Dave says, not looking away from Nep for a moment. “I would say it’s over.”

  
  


Eridan watches the fight play out as if it’s a film, no stakes and all for the viewer’s enjoyment. Yes, it’s primarily acting as a test for Dave’s skills and abilities, but there’s also an element of sheer enjoyment on Eridan’s part, watching the thrill of combat between two roughly equivalent competitors. He sits by and watches with every rap of the staff against Nepeta and strike of the gauntlets against Dave. It seemed the corruption Eridan had performed on Dave’s soul hadn’t hampered his physical talents or muscle memory, it simply…adjusted his own moral priorities.

Perfect.

The fight ends, and Eridan gives a brief round of applause to the combatants. He walks over to Dave, peering over his shoulder and down at Nepeta. Eridan could tell Dave to bash the staff against her throat and face until the oliveblood is dead, and the human likely wouldn’t hesitate. There’s such an undying loyalty beneath those shades and in his deep, red eyes. Loyalty backed up by incredible potential for combat on the battlefield.

Eridan takes the staff from Dave’s hands and gently prods him off of Nepeta. The oliveblood stands up, and Eridan promptly motions her out of the room, leaving Eridan with Dave.

“You showw so much potential, Davve. Howw wwould you like to enter my ranks and join my creww?” Eridan asks, already knowing the answer.

  
  


“More than anything, sir.” Dave says, and instinctively sinks down to one knee in front of Eridan, bowing his head.

Master is special. Master is  _theirs_ . Sir feels right, in this-

Master is for them. Sir is for his Commander.

(Eridan is for his heart.)

“I would serve you willingly, however you would need me to.” Dave continues. “Your sword, your shield, anything you need.”

He looks up to meet Eridan’s gaze- and they’re alone, so he flips his glasses up to meet Eridan’s gaze completely, unwavering.

“So long as you would have me by your side.”

Maybe he’s laying it on thick. That’s fine. Dave can roll with it- because his Commander is very clearly a man who loves his dramatics. Dave is the king of sincere dramatics. He’s the master of them.

And, well, nothing he’s said was  _false_ , after all.

  
  


Eridan tosses the staff aside, letting it roll away from them. He reaches to his own waist, to his sheath where his sword rests. With its new coating and the Alternian inscriptions on the hilt, it’s no longer the same sword once wielded by Dave’s brother. Eridan isn’t even sure if Dave can remember those pesky, troublesome, terrible times before everything was set right. Regardless…

It’s Eridan’s sword.

He unsheathes his sword, bringing the tip to rest below Dave’s chin. He pushes upward, tilting Dave’s head further up, the cool metal pressing against Dave’s warm skin. Eridan stares down into Dave’s red eyes, unblinking, unwavering in his focus.

“Anything?”

  
  


Not even a flinch. Dave’s gaze is soft, reverent.

“Anything.”

  
  


Eridan pulls the sword back from Dave, sheathing it once more. He helps Dave onto his feet, rings the bell, and leads him out of the training area and back to their bedroom.

They relax, and the following few days are comprised of simple busy work, nothing too complicated. Eridan properly introduces Dave to other crew members, watches him spar more with Nepeta, and makes prolonged visits to the bridge while leaving Dave in their room.

_Their_ room. Now that was an odd thought. Eridan still isn’t sure if he entirely enjoys that concept, but he pushes it away.

Eventually, the day comes. Eridan leaves the bridge with a rare smile on his face, entering the bedroom and greeting the docile Dave. He rings the bell, and finally, he reaches up to slowly peel the transparent bandaging placed over his healing tattoo. After setting the bandage aside, Eridan steps back, motioning for Dave to leave the bed.

“Are you ready to provve yourself? To provve your _loyalty_?”

  
  


Dave wants to make Eridan proud. Over the next couple of days, he does his best to be the competent crew member Eridan expects him to be. The spars with Nepeta allow him to learn to control the bell in it’s entirety, even when fighting.

(Dave likes Nepeta a lot. She’s got spunk, she’s unpredictable- and she refuses to let anything get her down.)

Not once does Dave remove the collar on his own- and he wears it with pride. Between the tattoo on his cheek and the collar, it’s obvious what he is.

He’s  _Eridan’s_ .

(Exactly one crew member thought it would be okay to bitch under their breath about ‘their commander’s uppity new pet’ and how Dave was being rewarded simply for being a whore- Dave had slipped away and tailed that crew member to a room, cornered him, and kicked his fucking ass for doubting Eridan’s decision making skills.)

So Dave’s mastered the art of moving about silently in the collar- and now it only chimes under Eridan’s touch- or if Dave is doing it deliberately.

It seems like yet another day when his Master comes in- and today he gets the bandage removed,  _(chime)_ revealing his mark in full. He hums softly, wanting Eridan to touch it- but instead Eridan beckons him forwards and Dave rises to his feet.

He straightens up. His Commander is asking for him to  _prove_ himself.

“Yes, Sir.” Dave says, clasping his hands behind his back, the tiniest hint of a determined smile on his mouth. “What do you need me to do?”

  
  


Eridan reaches forward, straightening Dave’s uniform. There are some new patches and medallions to denote Dave’s new status on board, but it’s still the same outfit Eridan had initially given him following the successful corruption. And he looks mighty and professional in it. He brushes Dave’s hair from his face and reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing Dave’s shades to slip them onto his face.

“Wwe’re gonna go meet some people. I’ll tell you more wwhen wwe arrivve,” Eridan explains, not waiting for Dave’s response before dragging him along.

They head down the corridors and hallways, down flights of stairs until they come to the brig. Prisoners—trolls, humans, and other varying species from previous conquests—are locked in their holding cells. There’s a contingent of Eridan’s men on the opposite side of the area, waiting for their leader to arrive. The men, Eridan, and Dave enter the room where Dave and his brother had first been brought before Eridan. Flanked by armed troll soldiers, two women kneel before Eridan and Dave, cuffed and bruised.

“Davve, tell me, do you happen to recognize these twwo?”

  
  


Dave follows along obediently, keeping the bell silent. They’re meeting people? Dave isn’t sure how this will test his loyalty, but he supposes they’ll wait and see.

Oh, Dave recognizes this room.

_(A distant throb, heat splattering up the side of his face.)_

He recognizes the two women, too.

“Oh.” He says, a little surprised. “Hi, Jade. Hi, Rose. I guess you guys got captured, haha.” He grins at them. “I guess that’s not too surprising.”

Rose’s face is pale. Jade seems to be caught somewhere between rage and grief, staring at him.

“…we thought you were dead.” Rose whispers.

Dave shrugs a little. “Nope.” He says, popping the p. With that, he looks to Eridan, waiting for instructions.

  
  


Eridan reaches to the sheath once more, grabbing his sword. He slowly unsheathes his sword, focusing on the women before him, taking in their reactions. Not taking in. No,  _reveling_ in their reactions. The faces of the confident coordinators of humanity’s dying throes of rebellion. Turning to Dave, he places the sword in Dave’s hands.

“Showw me wwhat wwe do to our enemies. Only one of them, make your choice,” Eridan instructs, watching Eridan’s face.

If there’s ever going to be a time where his corruption, his  _programming_ of Dave breaks, it would be now. Eridan steps back and motions for Dave to make his move.

  
  


Dave takes the sword and holds it in his hands, looking down at the flat blade.

_(Bro’s blade.)_

_(Bro’s sword.)_

_(The metal feels warm in his hands.)_

_(“Provve your loyalty, Davve.”)_

He new life before him.

His old life behind him.

The choice is easy. It’s not even a choice.

It’s not even a thought.

He raises it and presses his mouth to the metal.

“Yes, sir.” He says, and if Eridan could see his eyes, he would recognize the naked devotion in them.

He turns on his heel.

“Sorry Rose, Jade.” He says, flipping the blade around the back of his hand. Exquisitely balanced. He would expect nothing less of his Commander’s sword. He gives them a regretful little grin.

“Wish you had picked the right side.”

Rose or Jade?

Rose is a tactician of humanity. Her knowledge is invaluable to humanity, her schemes and orders and strategies legendary.

Jade…

Jade is a  _wild card._ There’s a fierce, terrible grief and rage in her expression as she gives a wordless snarl at Dave as he steps forwards. Rose’s expression is a brave mask, but Dave can see her shattered heart.

He feels bad. He loves these two women, they’re his friends.

But he loves his Commander more. He’s loyal to his Commander. He lives and dies for his Commander.

And, as it turns out, kills for him, too.

It’s a flash of dark steel and the sword plunges right into Jade’s chest.

The choice was easy.

Rose is smart- it means she understands what it means that Dave has become Eridan’s. Her knowledge will lead to despair and despair will lead to humanity’s loss.

Jade is a wildfire who burns everything to fight and protect. If Dave leaves her alive, she will set the sky on fire to avenge Rose and try and save Dave.

‘Save’ Dave. As if he would need that.

Dave is merciful. He severs Jade’s heartstrings in a swift, single blow.

She drops like a stone, falling backwards to the deck, red pooling out underneath her. She’s dead before she hits the floor. He hears Rose’s ugly, punched-out noise of grief, but Dave doesn’t spare her a glance as he flicks the blood off the blade and turns back to his Commander. He steps back over, sinks to a knee, and holds the blade out for Eridan to take back, hilt-first.

“Sir.” He says, tone neutral, but-

_(Chime)_ .

He had shifted to make the bell ring as he sunk to his knees. Seeking approval.

  
  


Eridan reaches down, taking the sword from Dave’s hands. Although Dave had flicked the excess, dripping blood from the blade, there’s still wet crimson staining the blade. It presses against the underside of Dave’s chin when Eridan raises the sword, tilting his head up once more. Eridan looks Dave over, nodding in approval at the ring of the bell.

The sword is sheathed once more.

But Eridan then helps Dave up to his feet, before reaching to the sheath hanging around his waist. Slowly, Eridan removes the sheath from his own bod. He steps forward, closing the distance between Dave, and begins to wrap it around Dave’s waist. Eridan gives a firm tug on the sheath to ensure it is fully secured around Dave, before stepping back to look him over.

“Howw does that feel?”

  
  


Eridan has him rise, so he rises. He did good- Eridan thinks he did good.

His  _Commander_ thinks he did good. Dave could vibrate from the pressure of shoving down his pleased excitement.

And then.

Eridan  _gives Dave his sword._

In front of everyone.

An explicit, direct message.

_This human is worthy of being my sword, of staying at my side._

Dave’s eyes slide closed behind his shades.

They flick open again at the question.

“It feels good, Sir.” He says. “Thank you. I won’t disappoint you.”

_I’ll never betray you, Master._

  
  


Eridan nods, giving Dave a reassuring pat on the shoulder. He’d love to stay and further indulge in Dave’s undying loyalty, but there’s one other matter to address.

Eridan strides over to Rose, kneeling down. He puts his fingers underneath her chin, tilting her head up to greet his gaze. A cruel smile pulls at his lips as he takes in her grief, her suffering, and her pain. The utter brokenness he can see on her face. The brokenness she shall spread to the rest of humanity.

“Noww, Rose, you’re going to be let free. And you wwill go dowwn to the surface to tell evveryone wwhat you’vve seen. Wwhat my loyal soldier, Davve Strider, can do. Howw he so proudly servves me, wwears my symbol on his cheek. Do you think you can do that for me, princess?” Eridan teases, running a thumb over her lips.

In another reality, Eridan could see Rose being the subject taken under his wing, so thoroughly corrupted into his service. Her intelligence mirrors Dave’s combat abilities, and she would be a useful asset in his ranks. But now, like this, the best use of her is to spread the propaganda of Dave Strider’s fall.

And his rise to Commander Eridan Ampora’s loyal executioner.

  
  


Rose’s eyes slide closed in grief at Eridan’s touch, at his words.

Dave feels sorry for her. He liked Rose and Jade, he really did. If he could have somehow brought them aboard, brought them around, made them loyal, too… this all could have been avoided.

But as sorry as he is, Dave can’t be…  _sad_ about it. They picked their side, and he found his. The aching in his chest at the sight of Jade’s lifeless body is nothing compared to the warmth of Eridan’s approval, of his pride at being publicly given Eridan’s sword to carry.

So Dave stands back and watches with a proud satisfaction as Eridan sends Rose away to be taken back to Earth.

He doesn’t understand why his chest is still aching. He’s going to not think about it.

  
  


Rose is carried away by Eridan’s men, leaving Eridan alone with Dave, with Jade’s corpse laying mere feet away. Eridan stands up, walks back over to Dave, and places a hand on the small of Dave’s back.

“Come noww, let’s go eat dinner. You’vve earned quite a feast,” Eridan says, ushering him out.

They leave Jade’s body behind. They move on. At least, Eridan does. All he can hope for is that Dave does as well.

After dinner, they return to the bedroom. Eridan kicks off his shoes and strips off the outer layer of his uniform, leaving him in his undershirt and boxers. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching over Dave in quiet analysis. He hadn’t spoken much at dinner, and he still seemed rather quiet.

“Is something wwrong ovver there, Davve?”

  
  


Dave looks at Eridan mutely. He’s not quite sure what to say. He looks at Eridan and knows that what he did was right. That he did what his Commander wanted and that he was loyal and good and everything he should be.

His heart feels like it’s torn in two.

“I don’t know.” He says, after a moment. He takes off Eridan’s sword and carefully sets it aside, then fumblingly _(chime)_ takes off his shirt and folds it, setting it aside. His hands are shivering with the tiniest little shake as he strips his pants off _(chime)_ and folds them up and sets them down.

“I.” He shakes his head. _(chime)_ “I’m sorry, Master. I don’t know what-”

He slips his shades off and realizing his vision is swimming. He folds them and sets them down on top of his uniform.  _(chime.)_

“I don’t know what’s happening.” He whispers.

  
  


Eridan has to hold back a roll of his eyes, slightly annoyed by the apparent failure of the moral corruption to thoroughly eliminate Dave’s sympathy for that human  _scum_ . Regardless, he holds back any visible irritation, letting out a soft sigh as he sits against the headrest of the bed. Making eye contact with Dave, he pats his lap, motioning for his pet to come join him.

“C’mere. I’m here for you. Your master is here. Your commander’s here,” Eridan attempts to reassure Dave, shifting his legs so Dave can achieve the most comfort by sitting in his lap.

  
  


His Master’s here. It’s okay. Eridan will make it okay. Dave nods shakily  _(chime)_ and moves over to the bed in his under-shirt, climbing onto the bed and settling onto Eridan’s lap, sitting sidesaddle.  _(chime)_ .

“I’m sorry.” Dave says, curling in and resting his head on Eridan’s shoulder. His eyes are wet, wide, confused. “I don’t- I.”

He trembles.

“It is bad to- to wish- they could have- they could have joined us?” He whispers.

  
  


" _No_ ," Eridan replies bluntly. It isn’t curt or rude, it’s emphatic. Reassuring.

“It’s not bad to wwish that, Davve. They could havve been helpful, useful, so strong for our forces. But…” Eridan pauses, reaching a hand up to rub over Dave’s back. His hand is slow in its motions, pressing firmly against Dave in slow circular movements.

“But they wwould be much too dangerous, I hope you realize. Wwho knowws wwhat they could havve done before I could set them straight like I did for you. You…are a special circumstance, and I don’t knoww if I’d be able to handle havving both a’ them on board together wwhile also trying to help you train, Davve. They could havve tried to kill me. You wwouldn’t wwant that, wwould you?”

  
  


Eridan says it’s not wrong to want that. It’s not wrong to wish he could have saved his friends. It’s not wrong to still love them, even though they’re on the wrong side.

The idea of being a  _special circumstance_ makes his belly go hot in embarrassed pleasure, though, the idea that he was special enough for Eridan to see and pluck out of humanity’s distressing chains and make into something better, something  _perfect_ .

“No, Master.” Dave murmurs. “Your life is worth more than all of theirs.” He shudders a little. Eridan’s touch on his back is soothing.

“I know. I’m just.” Dave swallows thickly. “I’m just… sad. That they’re on the wrong side. That they’re all too stubborn to see what they should to. That they have to die because of it.”

He swallows again and blinks as a couple of tears slip down his face. “But it is what it is.” He says. “I can’t change their choices. They’re all too stubborn.”

  
  


Eridan’s hand dips lower, and his other hand joins it on Dave’s hips. He shifts Dave in his lap, moving him so they sit face to face. A hand traces up Dave’s back once more, before coming to rest against the back of his head, pushing Dave’s face into Eridan’s undershirt. He holds him like this, pressing Dave’s face into his chest, letting out the low reverberating trill in his diaphragm.

“Cry.” It’s an order, but his commanding tone has a slightly softer edge to it now. “Let it all out and cry, Davve.”

  
  


Dave gasps wetly, shudders, and grabs onto Eridan’s undershirt and tears pour down his face.

“I’m s-oorry- Mas-ter-” He sobs, “I d-don’t- wanna-”

_I don’t want to be weak, I don’t want to disappoint you, I don’t-_

_ I want my friends to be with us- But it’s not possible- and it  **hurts** - _

He sobs. Helpless, knowing what the right thing is, and hurting because of it.

  
  


Eridan lets out a soft sigh, nodding. He keeps a hand planted on Dave’s head, the other moving up his back to continue rubbing firm, reassuring presses into him. Today is a tough day for his pet, and while Eridan would typically have very little patience for this sort of display, Dave has been awfully good, loyal, and strong up to this point.  _Sometimes even the strongest of soldiers have their off-days_ , Eridan tells himself.

“It’s okay, Davve. Your master is here for you,” Eridan replies in between trills, his voice a low whisper. “He’s here for you, okay? And he isn’t gonna leavve you.”

  
  


Dave nods shakily into Eridan’s chest at his words. “I know.” He whispers back. “I know- You’re here. I’m yours. I’m yours.”

His breathing is starting to even out, his tears gradually slowing, so he sniffs and swallows and his hands slowly relax in Eridan’s undershirt, smoothing the fabric out.

“I’m sorry, Master.” Dave says, pulling back and wiping at his eyes. His expression is still upset, but there’s a level of composure slowly returning to it. “I- I’m sorry. I don’t… I shouldn’t be like this.”

His heart is lurching in his chest, only soothed by the whispers Eridan had made,  _he’s not leaving me, he’s not shoving me to the side just because I was weak, it’s okay, it’s okay._

  
  


Eridan has to hold back a smirk that wants to form when Dave smooths out his undershirt.

_An emotional wreck, and he still wants to make sure his master looks as perfect as possible._

Instead, he moves his hands to Dave’s face. His thumbs wipe the falling tears from Dave’s wet cheeks, pulling his face closer to Eridan’s. Eridan closes the distance between their faces, pressing his lips against Dave’s in a kiss. The first kiss since Dave had become his loyal pet. The first kiss between Dave and  _his_ commander, not the commander. The first kiss between Dave and his master.

  
  


Eridan kisses him.

Everything else

vanishes.

It’s a soft press of mouths, a immediate settling of Dave’s mind, quieting down to a quiet murmuring of  _Master, Master, Master- Eridan, Master, Commander, Sir, Master-_

Dave slips his arms around Eridan’s neck with a soft, happy sigh. A few stray tears slip down his cheeks, but it’s all thoroughly banished in the face of the careful, gentle kiss that Dave is pressing into.

Warmth, in his chest. Filling him up.

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

_My Master._

_Eridan._

Dave kisses until Eridan makes the tiniest indicator that he should pull back so he does- his eyes fluttering open and looking at Eridan with a deep, naked, loving devotion.

“ _Thank you, Eridan.”_ Dave whispers.

  
  


“Of course, Davve,” Eridan replies.

His hands move down, tracing over the front of Dave’s chest, pressing through the thin fabric of Dave’s undershirt. Eventually, Eridan settles one hand on Dave’s hips, the other moving back up to tap the silver bell on Dave’s collar, letting it chime. He continues to let out his own low trill, letting the bedroom be filled with the soothing sounds.

“Think you’re gonna be fine?”

  
  


The little chime of his collar settles him, slows his churning belly.

He takes a deep breath. Nods.  _(Chime.)_ Nods again.

“Yes, Master.” He says. “I’ll be okay. I’m sorry I broke down like that.” His gaze skitters away, embarrassed.

  
  


" _Look at me_ ." Eridan’s hands move back up to Dave’s face, holding it tightly as Eridan moves it around until they’re making eye contact once more. His gaze is intense, but, despite the forceful movements of his hands, his face isn’t furious.

“It’s okay,” Eridan says, his voice calm. “I don’t wwant you breakin’ dowwn, but sometimes it’ll happen. An’ wwe’ll get through it, an’ you’ll come out stronger. Got it? No need to apologize, just gotta focus on pickin’ yourself back up. That’s wwhat being a good, unwwavverin’ soldier is about.”

  
  


Dave’s attention snaps to Eridan the moment his Master calls for it.

_It’s okay._

Something in him relaxes and he nods a little.

“Yes, Master.” He says softly. “I understand.” He smiles a little bit and raises one hand to gently put it over Eridan’s, turning his face to kiss Eridan’s palm.

“You always take care of me, sir.” He says and gives a slow, deliberate roll of his hips against Eridan. “Let me return the favor?”

  
  


The movement catches Eridan off-guard, his breath hitching slightly as he feels Dave roll into him, slowly and sensually. He clears his throat and regains his focus, nodding. Rather than push Dave off to strip down, however, Eridan grinds his hips up against Dave, forceful in his movement.

“Look at you, being such a good boy,” Eridan whispers reassuringly, his hands moving down to the small of Dave’s back, assisting in the grinding. “Do it. Servve me.”

  
  


Eridan grinds up to match his motion and Dave moans low in his throat.

“Yes, Master…” He breathes, pleased at being granted permission. “Thank you…”

He leans in and slides his arms around Eridan’s neck, pressing a quick kiss to Eridan’s cheek before he starts to roll and rock his hips in earnest, trying to warm Eridan up enough to get him interested, to encourage his bulge out.

One hand slides down Eridan’s front slowly, down into the fabric of his underwear, down between his legs, finding his bulge, peeking out a bit.

“Going to make you feel so good, Master.” Dave murmurs, stroking over the tip and letting it twine between his fingers, into his palm, up his wrist, gently wrapping his fingers around it and giving it a gently firm pull.

  
  


Eridan lets out a low groan as Dave tugs at his bulge, his head falling back against the headboard of the bed. His own hands move around to Dave’s back, tracing along his spine and down to his rear. After a bit of shifting, Eridan plants his hands on Dave’s ass, a slight hindrance to the grinding. To make up for it, he begins to firmly grope at his ass through the thin fabric of his underwear, teasing his pet.

“You alwways knoww howw to make your master feel good,” Eridan replies. “Such a good pet, aren’t you?”

  
  


Dave flushes happily at the praise, rocking his hips back into Eridan’s touch, then forwards again.

“Yes, Master.” He preens. “Want to be your _best_ pet,” _your only pet_ , he doesn’t say- he won’t overstep, “want to make you feel so good…” He knows better than to kiss Eridan without permission, but god does he yearn.

So instead he gives Eridan’s bulge another long stroke, then another, letting it twine around his wrist and fingers.

“How do you want me, Master?” Dave breathes. “You want me riding you? Or do you want me to try and suck you off, see how much I can fit in my throat? You’ll fill me up ether way, stuff me so full…”

  
  


Eridan pauses for a moment, thinking. Leaning forward, he presses his lips against Dave’s for a brief kiss, quick and soft. It’s a teasing kiss. He knows how much Dave longs for a true, proper kiss, and he’ll tease him over it until he begs.

“Howw about you prepare me wwith your mouth first, then you can ride me,” Eridan suggests.

He moves his hands up to the hem of Dave’s undershirt, giving it an upwards tug.

“Arms up, gotta wwork this off a’ you,” Eridan orders, pulling the shirt up.

  
  


Eridan kisses him, light and teasing, and Dave shudders, instinctively leaning into it until Eridan pulls back.

“Yes, Master.” He says, a hot pulsing in his veins as he lets Eridan tug his shirt up and off. _(chime)_ He has to detangle his hand from Eridan’s bulge to let this happen, which is a disappointment, but then he’s giving Eridan a mischievous little grin and slipping down the bed to take Eridan’s underwear and tug it down enough to let Eridan’s bulge come fully out.

He closes his hand around the base again and gives it a nice, long pull, then darts in to lick up the couple of drops of fluid that roll down from the tip.  _(chime)_ He slips the tip into his mouth and sucks lightly, bobbing his head, just working over the tip for a couple of motions before taking a breath and pressing more of Eridan’s bulge into his mouth.

He knows he won’t be able to take much- he’s pretty sure he’ll be gagging and coughing before long- but he can do his damn best, licking over every inch as he slowly feeds it into his mouth, moaning softly at the taste of his Master as it floods his senses.

  
  


For the seconds before Dave moves down the bed, Eridan simply stares him over, taking in the sight. His pet, in just a pair of perfectly tight briefs and a beautiful collar, sitting before him in such an obedient manner, so  _eager_ to serve his master. There’s a flash of a naughty grin, and Dave is shifting down to really get to work. Eridan shifts up slightly, letting him further relax against the headboard.

Eridan lets out another satisfied, relieved groan as he feels Dave’s warm mouth take in his bulge, Dave’s soft lips wrapping around the wet tendril. Eridan moves a hand down to the back of Dave’s head, firmly planting itself there to help push and pull Dave’s head with every bob along his length. With every push downward and pull upward, the bell gives a soft  _chime_ . That, combined with the lovely noises of Dave’s mouth working up and down, are music to Eridan’s ears.

  
  


Eridan guides him up and down his bulge and Dave is more than happy to go with it, more than happy to let Eridan move him around and show him the pace to set. With each push Eridan guides him down a little deeper, until with every bob Eridan’s bulge is slipping down his throat and making Dave’s eyes water.

It’s so  _good_ , having his Master fill his throat, getting fucked like this- Dave loves it loves it and one day he’ll absolutely get all of Eridan’s bulge inside his mouth.

He his the point where his body goes  _okay too much_ and he gags, throat squeezing around Eridan’s bulge as it tries to push it out- and the pain of it shoots right down to his dick, throbbing in his underwear.

Fuck. He keeps sucking, though, keeps licking and sucking and slurping and swallowing down the drops of genmat that are welling up from the tip of Eridan’s bulge. He wants to make his Master feel  _good._

  
  


Every slurp, gag, choke, and other lewd noise coming from Dave as he sloppily works his mouth over Eridan’s bulge rings in Eridan’s brain, his bulge writhing in response to each and every noise, twisting and wriggling in Dave’s mouth and throat. He could lay like this for hours, just letting his pet serve him so thoroughly, with such devotion.

Instead, Eridan slowly pulls Dave’s head up and off his bulge, letting him take a deep breath of air. However, he keeps Dave’s head against his bulge, letting the slick tendril twist and grind across Dave’s face, moving across his lips and cheeks.

“God, you’re such a needy, greedy slut, aren’t you? Wwanna do anything for your master, yeah?”

  
  


Dave bobs his head and licks and sucks under Eridan’s guidance until he’s pulled up and off, and he breathes roughly, mouth slack, tongue pressed right up against his lower lip as he looks up at Eridan, violet dripping down his chin, gaze hazy and full of devotion.

His eyes flutter under the twisting of Eridan’s bulge, under the feeling of it smearing across his face, nuzzling into the touch.

“Yes, sir.” Dave breathes in response. He turns his face so that he can press an open-mouthed kiss to the side of Eridan’s bulge. " _Anything_ for you."

  
  


Eridan’s answer is near immediately, simple and short in his commanding tone of voice.

" _Then ride me._ "

  
  


Dave shivers at the tone of his Master’s voice.

“ _Yes, Master.”_ He breathes.

He pulls back to quickly shuck off his underwear  _(chime)_ and straddles Eridan, reaching down to find Eridan’s bulge. He guides it to his hole and it slips right into him, it’s thin, tapered, slick length pressing into him easily.

Dave moans as he slowly works his hips down, stretched out wider and wider as he takes more and more of Eridan into himself. It feels like his Master’s bulge is coiling right up into his gut, stuffing him nice and full, nestling into Dave like it’s where Eridan belongs.

Dave grins down at Eridan as he swivels his hips, rolling them down to stuff himself as full as he possibly can, draping his arms around Eridan’s neck.

“Wanna make you feel good, Master.” Dave coos, starting to grind, feeling the twist and press of Eridan’s bulge inside of him, filling him up.

  
  


Dave swivels and grinds and rolls himself down into Eridan’s touch, but he’s still seemingly unable to work the remainder of Eridan’s length into his hole. It’s almost adorable, really. The way Dave is so futilely and devotedly pushing himself down, so eager to work all of Eridan’s bulge in, so desperate to make his master feel as good as he possibly can.

Eridan can’t help the small smirk that tugs at his lips as his hands moved to Dave’s hips, gripping firmly. He shoves downward as he bucks his own hips upward, driving the final stretch of his bulge into Dave’s warmth with a low, satisfied trill. His hands keep Dave in place, firmly holding him down as Eridan stares into his eyes.

“Is your master makin’ you feel good too?”

  
  


Eridan forces him down onto those last couple of inches of his bulge and it  _punches_ a noise from his throat, startled and heady, as Eridan’s bulge shoves him open and sends a  _deep_ ache of pleasure through him.

“Uhh-huh-” Dave nods dumbly, mouth hanging open for a moment as his brain tries to reboot. "F- _uuck-_ " He moans, one hand slipping into the back of Eridan’s hair and cupping his head, wanting to kiss him _so bad_ but knowing it’s not his choice- hips twitching in Eridan’s grasp, wanting to bounce and fuck down. “Always- always make me feel- so _good_ , Master-” Dave tips his head back and moans, unable to look away from Eridan, their caught gazes searingly hot.

  
  


Eridan keeps one hand on Dave’s hips, attempting to hold him down as best as possible. It’s honestly difficult, even with his strength. Dave is so eager and his spasms and jolts of pleasure are too erratic for Eridan to expect or predict, pushing up into his hand and down into his lap. Such a needy little thing, it fills Eridan with… _pity_ .

He reaches up with his other hand to grab the back of Dave’s head, firmly pulling it forward to meet his own. His lips press against Dave’s with a feral desire, mouthing and nipping at Dave’s lips, taking Dave’s lower lip between his teeth, flicking his tongue against Dave’s lips. His other hand loosens its grip, allowing Dave to move as he pleases.

  
  


Dave presses into the kiss eagerly, panting and moaning, high and desperate, as he starts rolling and rocking his hips now that he’s been given free reign. It feels good, feels  _so_ good to have Eridan inside of him, thick and full and twisting up inside of him with wet  _smacks_ as their hips meet.

“Ha-ahh- ah- hah- hah- Ma _as_ ter-” Dave moans, trying not to grab at Eridan, not wanting to upset him- so he moves both of his hands to Eridan’s shoulders instead and braces himself against his Commander to start snapping his hips down, breathing ragged and edged with wet, needy pleasure. “Mm- mm- Mas-ter- feels, good- hah, good- feels _good_ -”

  
  


Eridan takes his hands away from Dave, letting them rest beside himself on the sheets. Instead, he lets Dave do all the work. Dave’s hands on his shoulders, Dave’s lips against Eridan’s, Dave’s body bouncing up and down as best as he can, so frantic, whipped up into such a frenzy. It’s nearly animalistic with how raw Dave moves and breathes.

“Fuck, you’re doin’ so good. Keep it up for your commander,” Eridan says.

He can’t tell if his voice makes that a praise, an order, or a request, but at this point, he doesn’t care. Will he beat himself up about it if he comes off less authoritative? Probably. But right now, he’s opted to throw that concern to the window and live in the moment, with his prisone—

His soldier. With his soldier serving him.

  
  


_You’re doing so good_ . Dave flushes all over from the praise, hot and shivering as he bounces and rolls, making himself into a pretty toy for his Master’s appreciation.

“Th- _aa_ nk you, Master- hhhnn- ah- ahh-” Dave gasps, dropping his hips all the way and grinding back and forth with Eridan’s bulge completely inside of him. “Huuuu-uh-” He moans as he squeezes down, feeling Eridan’s bulge twist and writhe inside of him, making him jolt. _(chime)_ “I-I’mm- fuck, _Master_ , I’m-”

He’s so filled up to the brim, hot and desperate, but he won’t cum, not until Eridan gives him permission. He’s a good pet, he’s  _good_ for Eridan, he’s good- he wants his Master to fill him up and use him and he’s so  _hungry_ for it.

  
  


“You’re _wwhat_?” Eridan asks, lifting a hand from the sheets. He traces it over one of Dave’s ankles, up his leg, and to his cock. His fingers wrap tightly around the base, squeezing it tightly to prevent any sort of climax from occurring. His eyes stare up at Dave’s from behind his glasses, taking in the sight of Dave’s eyes wet with pleasure now instead of the previous tears of emotional anguish.

“C’mon, use your wwords.”

Eridan knows fully well what Dave wants. And he knows he isn’t going to give it to him just yet.

  
  


Eridan  _grabs_ him and it’s what he needs to hold back, a relieved, grateful moan tearing from his throat.

“M _aster_ , please- I’m- I’m close, I-” Dave gasps for breath, still trying to rock and move on Eridan’s bulge. " _Please_ , want to make you cum, Eridan-" His mouth hangs open as he pants, sweat shining across his body, a pleasured haze in his eyes, a _needy_ haze in his eyes.

“Want to be _good_ for yoou-hu-” Dave moans, loud and unashamed and _free_ , that’s right, Eridan freed him from his old shackles, this where he belongs, this is where he _deserves_ to be, with his Master, with Eridan. This is where he _belongs._

  
  


“You’re so good for me,” Eridan reassures Dave, nodding.

Eridan keeps his hand wrapped tightly around Dave’s cock, moving the other up along Dave’s spine, planting it firmly on his upper back. Holding him tightly, Eridan shifts himself up from his laying position, flipping Dave downward. He presses Dave’s back into the sheets, still fully hilted inside Dave. Slowly, Eridan moves his hands off from Dave’s back and cock, gripping onto his hips once more.

Eridan draws his hips back, before slamming forward without warning, building a quick, intense rhythm of thrusts down into Dave.

  
  


Eridan says he’s  _good_ and Dave flushes, filled with warmth from head to toe. He stills as Eridan holds him and shifts them down, unmoving but for the shuddering rise and fall of his chest, the fluttering of his lashes.

Dave is completely sprawled out underneath Eridan, at his mercy, belly up, exposed- but he’s never feel more  _safe._ He’s cared for, his Master wants him, says he’s doing  _good-_ He spreads his legs as much as possible, looking up at Eridan with an unguarded,  _open_ gaze, completely and entirely belonging to his Master.

And then Eridan  _thrusts_ and Dave gasps because as hard as Dave can work to ride Eridan, as hard as he can do it, he can’t ever hope to compete with the  _force_ of Eridan’s thrusts, slamming into him hard and making him choke on his breath, making him shiver and grab at the bedsheets and  _wail_ .

"M-aa _aaa_ st-er- hhh _uuh-_ “”

  
  


All the build-up has already pushed Eridan to the edge, and he easily tumbles over as he slams his hips forward, pushing deep into Dave. He gives one final thrust forward, finishing inside Dave. His eyes continue to stare into Dave’s as best as possible as his bulge twitches and writhes, his cool, thick genetic material pumping into Dave’s warm. Eridan’s grip digs into Dave’s hips and his toes curl, body overtaken by his climax.

In the midst of it all, in the haze of pleasure, Eridan lowly groans out Dave’s name.

  
  


Eridan thrusts and slams in and  _cums_ and he’s still looking at Dave, he still wants to see Dave, wants Dave, Dave Dave Dave-

_Dave-_

Dave gasps as Eridan groans for him. The simple call of his name  _pours_ into him and he cums with a soul-shaking keen, toes curling, arching up and clinging to Eridan, to his Master.

“Ma-hah-aaster- _Eridan_ -” Dave trembles as he’s pumped full of Eridan’s genmat. He clings to him and arches up and presses their mouths together- his own orgasm is almost like an _afterthought_ to the pleasure of Eridan pumping him full, spilling inside of him.

  
  


Eridan is taken by surprise when Dave presses upward, kissing him. But he doesn’t pull back. Doesn’t snap and berate him, instead, he lets Dave kiss him. He pushes down in return, moaning into the kiss as his bulge idly writhes around in Dave. His climax has finished, but he doesn’t pull out. Not even as he breaks the kiss to shift himself once more, slowly pulling Dave up with him, iron grip still holding onto Dave’s hips.

Eridan returns to a half-sitting, half-laying position, his back pressing against the headboard of the bed. A hand drifts up along Dave’s side, brushing stray strands of blond hair from his face. All the while, his bulge continues to twist around, prodding at Dave’s warm walls.

“You feelin’ better?”

  
  


Eridan kisses him back and it’s soft and sweet and he’s keeping Dave nice and full, bulge still writhing inside of him, pressing across all of the spots that make him feel good. He’s pumped full of Eridan’s cool genmat and it’s such a  _heady_ feeling that it’s making his head kind of foggy but it- it feels  _good_ .

Eridan pulls him up and he goes, settling back into Eridan’s lap, clenching down around his bulge and panting softly. His Master’s touch is soft and careful and Dave’s never felt more  _cherished_ , more wanted in his entire life. No one’s ever touched him like this- none of the flings and relationships he tried were ever this careful, this perfect. He turns his head and nuzzles against Eridan’s palm with a nod.

“Yes, Master.” His gaze is soft and affectionate as he looks at Eridan. “Thank you.”

  
  


Eridan shifts Dave slightly, ensuring Dave has a thigh on either side of Eridan’s hips, straddling his master. It’s what seems most comfortable in Eridan’s mind, but he also can’t help but personally enjoy the positioning. Dave’s soft, warm thighs against his cool skin, their bodies one entangled mass of limbs and sweat…it makes it hard to not enjoy the position.

After handling the positioning, Eridan brings a hand back up to Dave’s face, running a thumb over Dave’s soft, wet lips. He brushes his fingers over Dave’s cheeks, holds his chin. His fingers trace over the tattoo on his cheek, and an honest smile comes to Eridan’s typically cold face.

He finally has someone to be  _his_ .

“You lovve your master, don’t you?”

  
  


Eridan adjusts him, settles Dave into his lap properly so that Dave is leaning up against his chest. It feels nice, just getting to lean against his Master and feel the rise and falling of his breathing, to have his Master filling him up and keeping him that way, satiated and good. He lets his head settle onto Eridan’s shoulder and tries to sync their breathing, just because- but Eridan breathes so much slower and deeper. Dave gives up after a moment and just tucks his arms in against his sides, out of the way.

Eridan’s fingers on his face have his gaze flicking up to his Master curiously, but he doesn’t move under the touch except to part his lips slightly, eyes fluttering softly for a moment as Eridan’s cool fingers skim over his Master’s mark.

The smile strikes him breathless. Eridan is handsome, there’s no doubt about it- but the smile transforms his face, makes him  _beautiful_ . It’s like the difference between a shimmering ice palace and seeing the sunrise for the first time. Warmth chasing a chill away, unable to avert his gaze.

Dave will die for this man. There was no doubt before, but Dave will  _die_ for this man, for his smile, for his touch- he’ll do  _anything_ to keep Eridan looking at him for just one second longer, to give Eridan that smile for just a single heartbeat more.

At the question, he nods. “Yes.” His voice is soft and reverent as he looks up at Eridan, red eyes full of naked devotion, full of heartfelt affection. “I do.”

  
  


Eridan can feel something in his chest at that stare, the way Dave’s eyes are so obviously full of nothing but subservience, obedience, and  _love_ . And those words from Dave; so soft, so full of worship. Eridan’s aquatic vascular system collapses and expands a tad bit quicker, but he can’t pinpoint why. This is just a toy of his. His newest flavor of the month, surely. He pushes the feeling down, deep into the pit of his stomach, attributing it to increased arousal from the heat of the moment.

“Good,” he finally replies. Simple. Short. Nothing to get twisted up in.

He adjusts Dave off of his chest slightly, sitting him up slightly, enough so that Eridan can lean in to bring his face just a few inches away from Dave’s.

“Wwhat do you wwant from your master?” Eridan asks, genuinely curious. “Wwhy do you wwant to be by his side?”

  
  


_Because you’re my everything,_ Dave almost blurts, but stops himself. Eridan is clearly looking for a genuine answer here, so Dave should actually think about what he’s saying.

What does Dave  _want_ from him?  _Why_ does Dave want to be by Eridan’s side?

Isn’t it  _obvious?_

Eridan’s bulge is still stuffed so nicely up inside of Dave, keeping him full. Dave can’t help the little clench he has around it as he shifts, contemplative.

“I want to be by your side.” Dave says. He’s not sure how much Eridan wants to hear, so he decides to say _all_ of it. “I want to be anything you need me to be. Pet, soldier, executioner- _whore_ \- anything for you to _want_ me.” His hands squeeze on Eridan’s shoulders for a moment, possessively, then he realizes what he’s doing and forces them to relax, pulling them back to rest over Eridan’s chest instead. That’s a safer touch.

“I want you.” Dave whispers, gaze full of helpless, naked adoration. “In any way you’ll give yourself to me. You took me from a world that was terrible and confusing and _made no sense_ and had all these invisible rules and codes that were _suffocating_ me. You brought me from a world with no purpose and endless, meaningless conflict and wiped all of that away.”

He pulls his hand in and curls it over his own heart, gaze slipping away for a moment as he shakes his head.

“I didn’t even know how much agony I was in.” Dave murmurs. “Caught between loyalties towards people, towards things, towards _ideas_ \- and all of it meaningless. Worthless in a world of perpetual war and hatred and hypocrisy. It was horrible- and I was so _steeped_ in it, I couldn’t even see it.”

He looks to Eridan again and carefully settles his fingertips over Eridan’s heart.

“So I’ll follow you to the ends of the universe, Eridan.” Dave says softly, honestly. “You captured me, changed me, _enslaved me_ \- and in doing so, you gave me purpose. You gave me what I didn’t even know I needed.”

"You gave me  _freedom._ "

  
  


Eridan listens to Dave’s long explanation, his soft whispers, his desires, and he hangs onto every word. If he were a more vulnerable troll, he might have shed a tear or two. But he isn’t. He doesn’t. He manages to suppress the warm feeling in his chest that might have brought on such a thing, the heat of the most flushed emotions brimming at his surface, so close to breaching. But he gets a handle on things. Stays composed as he nods along, listening.

“I wwill _take you_ to the ends a’ the univverse, Davve,” Eridan promises. “By my side, wwith me through it all. Wwhenevver you’re at your sickest or your healthiest, you’ll be my soldier. My executioner. Wwhatevver I wwant you to be that day.”

Eridan’s hands reach up, closing over Dave’s. He holds Dave’s warm hands against his cool skin, right where his aquatic vascular system pumps and flows. Slowly, he guides their hands back to Dave’s own chest, letting them rest over his heart.

“As long as this keeps you going…” Eridan trails off, before guiding their hands back to Eridan’s own chest. “And as long as this keeps me going, you’re _mine_.” His voice is firm, resolute in the promise.

“Howw does that sound to you?”

  
  


Dave shudders out a slow breath. That’s right. He’s  _Eridan’s_ . He’ll be anything Eridan wants, so long as both of them are alive-

- _in sickness or in health._

Dave swallows.

“That sounds perfect, Master.” He says, voice thick. “That’s all I could ever want.” Eridan’s hands are cool and soft around his and so so firm, so unyeilding- and that’s just what Dave wants. Because every single word he was was true- he won’t ever betray Eridan. He won’t ever be anywhere but exactly where his Master wants him to be.

So he leans in and kisses Eridan’s cheek, gentle and soft.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

  
  


Eridan sees Dave approach for the kiss on the cheek, but he doesn’t shift in the slightest. He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t tilt his head for easier access either. Instead, he simply sits patiently, letting his pet lean in for a soft, chaste kiss. Eridan slowly pulls a hand away from Dave’s, bringing it to Dave’s chin in order to tilt his head up slightly.

Eridan leans in for a kiss of his own, against Dave’s lips, slow and tender. He doesn’t mash his lips against Dave’s or use his teeth or tongue. Instead, Eridan lets his lips gently linger against Dave’s in a romantic, not sexual, embrace. Slowly, he pulls his head back, looking into Dave’s eyes.

“You wwanna go get yourself cleaned up before wwe get some rest?” Eridan pauses, bringing his hand back to hold Dave’s once more. “Unless you wwanna sleep like this.”

  
  


Eridan kisses him, slow and soft. It’s syrup-sweet and slow and thick and Dave can feel every bit of himself relaxing, sinking down into a deep adoration, his eyes fluttering shut slowly as Eridan just. Kisses him.

His eyes blink open, his expression sedated as Eridan asks and he lets out a low, thoughtful hum.

“I want to stay like this, Master.” Dave murmurs, his free hand coming down to touch over his stomach. “Like making you feel good, being stuffed full of you…”

  
  


“Mmm,” Eridan nods, leaning in to press a kiss against Dave’s forehead.

His hands reach past Dave, down to the sheets past them. He slowly pulls them up and over both himself and Dave, blanketing them in the warmth while still remaining firmly inside Dave. Eridan shifts himself down slightly, before eventually deciding to change positions entirely. He turns Dave around, his bulge twisting in compliance, before rolling onto his side. Now, they’re caught in a spooning-style position, with Eridan completely buried in Dave just like—

Just like their first night together.

The thought—the  _memories_ —sends a warm feeling into his gut, his bulge writhing slightly. He puts those thoughts away for now, instead leaning in to press a kiss to the back of Dave’s neck, his lips whispering against Dave.

“D’you like this better, or howw wwe wwere before?”

  
  


His master curls around him, wraps him up in sheets and his arms and everything is so perfect, Dave is being good for his master and being used and filled up nice and deep.

Dave hums softly, feeling Eridan shifting inside of him, but it feels good- so he finds Eridan’s hand and traces his fingers slowly over the back.

“This is good.” Dave says sleepily. “I like this- feels nice to be full, master.” He likes being held, likes the feelings in his chest, warm and affectionate. It’s all just… good.

  
  


Eridan nods, whispers a soft “night” against the back of Dave’s neck, and slowly drifts off to sleep. His vascular bladder slows its thumping, as does his breath, taking on a slow rhythm.


	9. Chapter 9

The next few days proceed similarly to the days leading up to the execution of Jade, mostly featuring mundane bureaucratic upkeep and meetings for Eridan and sparring practice with Nepeta for Dave. Days turn to weeks as they develop a routine. Eridan is able to slowly rope Dave into attending some of the less classified meetings, given Dave’s new role under Eridan, while Eridan takes more time out of his schedule to watch Dave’s excellent training with Nepeta. Good food, drink, relaxation, and sex is a staple throughout their days, and they’ve got a pretty solid routine.

That would change when the Baton Rouge offensive is approved.

Eridan exits the classified meeting, greeting Dave outside the room. His face is serious, but not grim. He’s not one to underestimate danger, but he’s not going to let it get to him either. Instead, he reaches forward, placing a hand on Dave’s shoulder. He says goodbye. It’s only temporary, a brief few days at most, but it’s a goodbye nonetheless.

A week and a half goes by between the deployment to the surface and the arrival of an enemy message, a video file on a flash drive held by a captured human soldier. After an initial viewing of the subject material by the crew, Dave is invited to a classified meeting for another viewing of the video.

It’s a grainy recording in some sort of underground basement or cellar, no identifying markings to be found. Eridan’s bound to a chair by thick chains, flanked by armed humans.

  
  


Rose stands behind him, addressing the camera as she makes a simple request. A prisoner exchange. The humans will return Eridan, should the trolls return Dave. The proposal draws a scornful snicker from Eridan, but before he can get a word in, the butt of a rifle slams against his face, a trickle of violet blood dripping from his nose. The video ends, and a deadline is displayed on the black screen.

Five days. That’s their window.

  
  


Dave is furious.

Oh, he’s got anger rolling and bubbling underneath his skin. There’s no denying that. Every inch of him is furious about his old friend doing this to him- taking  _his_ Commander, hurting  _his_ Master, all to try and, what-

To try and get him back? To try and  _save_ him?

That’s ridiculous. Dave doesn’t need  _saving._

His old friends need saving- because there will be  _nothing left of them_ when he’s finished.

Even as the other officers of Eridan’s staff argue and debate, Dave knows what is going to happen. He is going to go down there, give himself over to them, and  _slaughter them all_ .

No one hurts his fucking Commander.

In the end, it’s three days of arguing and trying to plan before Dave steps up and cuts the entire fucking table in half to get everyone’s attention. In the shocked silence, he sheathes his sword, takes it off, and holds it in his hands.

“I’m going.” He says. “Three of you will come with me as a show of good faith for not bringing an entire fucking battalion down on their heads. Either they’ll make the trade and I’ll kill all of them, or they’re lying and I’ll kill all of them.”

He holds his sword out to Nepeta, who takes it with a nod. There’s no one else Dave trusts right now to be competent enough to get his sword to him when it’s ready for things to go down.

The meeting is arranged for the morning of the fifth day. Dave is ‘escorted’ to the surface, his head held high, Eridan’s mark proudly visible on his cheek. He’s unchained, unarmed, and they arrive promptly at the meeting time.

Rose is there, with a group of more than a dozen humans.

Eridan is not in sight.

Figures.

Dave’s mouth twists flatly. “We had an agreement, Lalonde.” He says, pitching his voice to carry down the street. “Is the great tactician of humanity one to go back on her word?”

“If it means saving my friend?” Rose’s wands drop into her hands. " _Yes._ "

Nepeta tosses the sword to him and Dave draws it mid-air, the blade swinging and intercepting the first bolt of magic thrown their way. The trolls scatter, but Dave knows that Rose won’t kill him- so he stands his ground, swiping bolt after bolt of magic as it’s tossed his way.

She’s holding back. Of course she is. Even as enemies, she refuses to kill her friend.

Dave has no such compulsion. As the humans go to hunt down the trolls (and oh, how they will fail miserably- Nepeta is a  _hunter_ and hunt she will-), Dave advances on Rose.

“Dave- come home.” Rose pleads. “He brainwashed you-”

“He freed me.” Dave says, and cuts through another blast.

“He’s enslaved you, chained your mind-!” Rose is desperate, blackness creeping across her skin.

Dave pauses. Rose haults as well, her expression wide and terrified- and yet, edged with hope.

Dave can’t let her go grimdark. He  _will_ lose that fight.

“Rose.” He shifts his voice to be soft, uncertain. “I- I can’t come home.” He lets his grip on his sword go lax.

“Yes, you can.” Rose says, voice just as soft. She takes a step forwards. “You can come home, Dave- it wasn’t you. The Commander had a hold of you, you didn’t have a choice.”

Dave lets his gaze skitter away, turning his head. He feins a little tremble in his hand, sword vibrating.

“I-”

He swallows. Rose takes another step forwards. She’s close, now.

“I don’t… I can’t.” Dave forces out, choking the words.

“It’s okay.” Rose whispers. She’s reaching out, reaching a hand for his cheek-

Dave runs his sword through her heart. Rose’s eyes go wide.

“Sorry, Rose.” Dave murmurs, all of his act evaporating. “I’ve found my place- and it’s not here.”

Rose’s fingers weakly slip over Dave’s cheek as he impassively watches her body shut down. She deserves her death to be witnessed- so he waits until the last bit of life has drained from her to push her back and pull his sword free, flicking the blood off.

Now to find Eridan. Dave doubts they’re still using the same headquarters- Rose wouldn’t be that stupid, not knowing that Dave is loyal to Eridan.

So Dave takes a deep breath and tracks down Nepeta, who is hungry to punish the humans who thought they could kidnap their Commander, so she tracks down the building they’re holding him in.

There’s no pretty way to put it- it’s a slaughter. The small group tears through the building and kills every human who dares to cross their path- and then the other two trolls split off to kill all those who tried to hide.

Dave and Nepeta find where they’ve been keeping Eridan. Nepeta takes up a guard stance, gives Dave a nod- and then Dave shatters the lock on the door and pushes it open.

  
  


It was supposed to be an easy push. Eridan and a platoon of highblood landdwellers, making a swift push to capture one of the last human holdouts. But the countless battles have given humanity a glimpse into Commander Ampora’s strategies, given them a chance to adapt. That potential, combined with the home-field advantage, were enough to fight back in the streets of Baton Rouge. IEDs took out the land-drones, and humans fired potshots while laying atop roofs and peeking out from manholes. It was nothing too surprising, typical human tactics. Eridan employed his traditional strategy for urban warfare.

And then Rose showed up.

She was one to call the shots from behind the scenes, to plan and plot. She wasn’t one to set foot on the battlefield. The black magic turned the tide, tearing through cerulean and indigo hearts with ease. All his men were down for the count. But they took Eridan alive.

There was always a human in the room with him, switched out every six hours. Not enough time to charm them or bribe them or establish any sort of connection. There was a toilet in the corner of the room and a blanket on the floor. Water was a rarity. Food was out of the question.

Then the video. The ‘offer.’

Eridan knew Dave would come. Dave had found the purpose of serving Eridan, no matter what. Eridan knew the trade would happen. Dave would return to the clutches of humanity, Eridan would be taken back to his ship. And then…well, he’d have to finish the mission. He’d have to achieve total victory over the humans, no matter the cost. He couldn’t let his biases, his…desires interfere with what the Empire wanted, or else he’d…he’d be…

He could find a new toy. A new pet. It might take sweeps, tens of sweeps, hundreds of sweeps, but surely he’d find another plaything that would be as rewarding as owning Dave. Wouldn’t he?

Dave would do as asked. Dave would go through with the deal. It was the only way to save Eridan, even if it wasn’t what Eridan wanted.

Dave arrived, which Eridan expected. But he didn’t arrive as Eridan expected.

Eridan can hear the blasts of magic, screams of humans. The guard in the room is quick to lock the room down, training his firearm on Eridan, waiting to pull the trigger when the trolls arrive. But in the heat of the moment, when Dave gets the door open, the human turns his gun on the invaders, on Nepeta. She manages to pounce on him before he can get a shot off, using her metallic claws to tear through his skin, his fat, his muscles, to claw through his bones.

Eridan is in worse shape than even in the video. His prominent cheekbones became haunting as his body is more gaunt than before, his eyes bloodshot and once-groomed beard unkempt and frazzled. He hasn’t bathed in over two weeks, and it’s more than apparent.

“D…davve,” Eridan says, voice hoarse and dry. “N-nep. Take…trolls…clear path…to bedroom,” Eridan chokes, trying to stand up from the floor.

He collapses forward, hands reaching up to grasp for Dave’s shoulders.

“Can’t…can’t see me…like this. Need…help.”

  
  


“Eridan-” Dave gasps, horrified- barely aware of Nepeta tearing the guard apart, rushing forwards. He catches Eridan as he collapses- fuck, Eridan feels so _fragile_ in his arms, gaunt and exhausted- those fuckers must have starved him, _hurt_ him.

He hesitates for only a moment before he’s gathering Eridan up, lifting him up in his arm bridal-style.

“I won’t let anyone see you, Commander.” He murmurs as Nepeta rises to her feet, her olive eyes lit up with an unholy fury. She nods shortly in agreement and whirls out the the room to clear a path.

Dave follows behind after a couple of moments, moving as smoothly as possible to avoid jostling Eridan. He carries his Commander, cradling him gently, but his expression is fixed and fierce, unwilling to let any enemies get the drop on him. He lets Nepeta go ahead each leg of the trip, making sure it’s clear, and then following after. Then to the shuttle to bring them back to the ship- and then through the corridors of the ship until they’ve finally made it to Eridan’s quarters.

“I’ll get medical supplies.” Nepeta says, her gaze worried.

“Something easy to eat, too- broth, would be good.” Dave says and Nepeta nods sharply, turning on her heel and darting away.

Dave carries Eridan into the bedroom and gently settles Eridan down onto the bed, sitting next to him.

“I’m sorry it took so long, Eridan.” Dave whispers, gently brushing Eridan’s hair out of his face. “It’s alright. You’re safe now.”

  
  


Eridan conserves his energy and his voice, not speaking as Dave cradles him in his arms. Instead, he silently loops his arms around Dave’s neck and rests his face in Dave’s chest, hiding himself from any stray trolls who might have been missed by Nepeta’s clean-up efforts.

It’s the weakest he’s ever been.

“Wwater…” Eridan manages to add when Dave instructs Nepeta to get some broth, before returning his face to Dave’s chest. That doesn’t last long, however, and soon, he’s sprawled on his back on his bed, Dave sitting beside him.

Dave didn’t give himself up for Eridan. He had managed to find a way to serve his master and keep them both alive, beside one another for another day. It’s more than Eridan could have asked for, and it’s the final push against those suppressed feelings in his chest. All those feelings he had tried to brush off as some heat of the moment lust or sexual desire, all those emotions he had buried come bubbling up. Those days of playing this down as another one of his flings with a concubine. All of it melted away. Dave’s fingers brush Eridan’s greasy hair from his face, and Eridan looks up from behind shattered glasses.

“Fuck…Lovve you, Davve…” he sputters, wiping at his dry lips with the back of his hand.

  
  


Dave’s heart squeezes tight in his chest as he gently smooths Eridan’s hair back. “It’s okay.” Dave says softly. “You don’t have to say anything- I know it probably hurts.” If his eyes are wet, could anyone blame him?

He leans in and gently kisses Eridan’s forehead. “I’ll take care of you.” Dave promises. “You’ll be right as rain before you know it.”

With that, he carefully starts working Eridan’s clothes off, helping him to get undressed to start assessing the damage that had been done to his Commander during his captivity.

  
  


Fuck, he’s pathetic. His captive, his pet, his follower is taking care of  _him_ now. The shame causes his gut to flip. Or maybe it’s the lack of food for the past two weeks. Or maybe the dehydration. Or maybe the various physical bruises still lingering on his lower abdomen. Whatever it is, his body is in too much pain to focus on the shame. So he buckles down and helps Dave with removing his clothes, lifting up his arm—

“F _UCK_ ,” Eridan cries as his right arm _**POP**_ s back into its socket.

He grits his teeth, taking deep breaths as fresh tears sting at his eyes. His arms, however, stay still above his head, allowing Dave to take his shirt off. Eridan fidgets his legs to help Dave work off his pants and boxers as well, laying naked on the bed.

Bruises litter his body, clearly from the butt of rifles and blunt weapons beat against his chest, his stomach, his legs, his arms, his back. There are small cuts across his face and on his lower lip, violet flecks of dried blood standing out against his gray skin.

  
  


Dave has to fight not to flinch at the popping of Eridan’s arm- fuck, how had he missed that, he should have been  _paying more attention_ , god dammit-

He finishes stripping Eridan down (those fucking animals, look what they  **did to his Commander-** ) and then carefully reaches for his shoulder, checking for swelling. “I think you’ve seen better days, Master.” Dave murmurs, trying for levity. “But you’ll be right as rain in no time.”

He tries to assess the damage, first, see where the most urgent care is needed- he can’t see any open wounds, so that’s good. “Does it hurt to breathe?” Dave asks, carefully settling his hands over Eridan’s ribs and cautiously feeling for broken bones.

  
  


Eridan lets out a pained groan as Dave places his hands on Eridan’s sides. Yep, there’s at least one broken rib, maybe more.

“Does…fuck…does…that…answer it?” Eridan manages to sputter out between gritted teeth, taking quick, shallow breaths as he tries to bring himself back under control.

This is his fault. He went without a full army. He could have died. Could have left Dave without a master. Tears sting at his eyes again, but it isn’t from the physical pain he’s in.

  
  


Dave hisses under his breath in sympathy- and worry. Broken ribs are never good. “We need to get those  _actually_ looked at, Eridan.” Dave murmurs. “I can get one of the medicullers over here- but lets get you cleaned up and looking a bit more presentable first, okay?”

Impulsively, he leans in and gently kisses Eridan’s temple before withdrawing from the bed and hurrying over to the bathroom to get some of the rudimentary medical supplies Eridan keeps in his bathroom for minor injuries.

He comes back with the kit tucked under his arm, a washcloth and hand towel over his shoulder, and carrying a tub of warm water. He sets the tub town and drops the kit on the bed, popping it open.

“Right, let’s get you feeling a little better, yeah?” Dave says with an encouraging smile, dipping the washcloth into the water and gently starting to work at the cuts, cleaning them up and getting rid of the dried blood on Eridan’s skin.

  
  


Eridan doesn’t protest Dave’s insistence on bringing in a mediculler. His mind, however, immediately begins turning with dark ideas. The mediculler would have to be killed or mindwiped or…or…or  _something_ after seeing Eridan like this. They can’t be allowed to go telling everyone how  _weak_ the commander looked, how close to death he stands.

Those thoughts, like many of his worries, are sidelined by another throb of pain followed by a grit of teeth. Dave is back, eventually, with water and medical supplies. Seeing water makes Eridan’s mouth feel even drier, but that water is for medical purposes. Besides, it’s from the tap. He may be dying, but he still has his lines he’s too refined to cross.

As if on cue, Nepeta finally walks in, bringing in a glass of water, a pitcher of water, and a bowl of steaming broth. She sets it all on the nightstand beside Eridan, before standing behind Dave.

“Mediculler…twwenty minutes…” Eridan mutters to Nepeta. She nods, before exiting the room, leaving Eridan with Dave once more. Dave, who had been carefully, gingerly cleaning up the violet blood scattered across his body. Dave, who had a soft, reassuring smile on his face. Dave, who was _here_ for him.

“Fuckin’…lovve you so much,” Eridan manages to get out again.

  
  


Dave swallows because that’s the second time, now, that Eridan’s said it- and his heart is feeling real fucking tight as he pauses in his cleaning to carefully, gently, smooth Eridans’s bangs back.

“I love you too, Eridan.” Dave whispers, the words soft and gentle. “It’s okay. Just relax- we’ll get you all taken care of.”

With most of the blood cleaned off, Dave reaches for the water and guides it to Eridan’s mouth, tipping it carefully- he shouldn’t let Eridan drink too much all at once or he might puke it back up. Empty stomachs are fussy things, Dave would know.

“Small sips, Master.” Dave advises, and helps Eridan drink about a third of the glass before taking it back and reaching for the medical supplies. He’ll take care of all the surface wounds before the mediculler gets here, and then they can deal with the broken ribs.

For not the first time, Dave is grateful for all the training Bro put him through- he absolutely would not know how to treat Eridan’s injuries without the years of treating his own.

  
  


Dave says  _I love you_ in return, and there’s a warmness in his chest, something he hasn’t felt before.

Sure, Dave’s said this before, said it countless times. But never like this. It had always been in reverence, but now…it was  _reassurance_ . Dave wasn’t looking up to him or crying into his shirt or gripping the bedsheets or curling up against him. Dave was dabbing at the wounds, Dave was taking care of Eridan. Dave was  _saving_ him. A fresh pair of tears slowly fall down his cheeks as he nods, taking small sips of water.

He closes his eyes, feeling so, so tired. There’s a strong pull to let his eyes remain closed, to…drift off…It would be so relaxing, just going to sleep. Instead, he grits his teeth, slowly blinking his eyes open once more. He’d get through this. He’d gotten through worse, and now he has someone to lean on.

“I’m okay…you can stitch me…up,” he says, shifting up slightly to allow Dave better access to some of the cuts on his body.

  
  


Eridan gives him the go ahead to start stitching him up and Dave nods, wringing the washcloth out again and gently swiping it over Eridan’s face and neck (passing it carefully over his gills), until Eridan’s face is clean of sweat and tears and dirt.

He drops the washcloth onto the rim of the bowl and reaches for the supplies, threading a needle with an ease that can only come from practice- and then he starts patching Eridan up, each stitch careful and even. Dave keeps his focus on his work- he’s not about to let his Commander go around with a  _sloppy patch job_ , he has fucking standards, thank you- but he’s hyper aware of every shift of Eridan’s body, not wanting to hurt him any more than he has to.

He works carefully but efficiently, not wanting to cause Eridan any more pain than needed. When he finishes, he covers each wound with gentle fingers before setting the supplies aside. “Can you try and eat, Master?” Dave asks softly as he reaches for the broth.

  
  


Eridan grits his teeth through the stitching, but he doesn’t shed any more tears. He puts up with it, staring into Dave’s eyes to work through the irritating feeling of his wounds being pulled together. This isn’t the first time he’s had to get stitches—and it likely wouldn’t be the last—, but it’s still irritating. As Dave sets aside the first aid kit, Eridan lets out a soft sight of relief.

Then Dave is reaching for the bowl of broth. Taking it in his hands. Eridan reaches forward to take the bowl from Dave, but a searing pain shoots through his arm, into his shoulder, and down his back. His head slams back against the headboard in instinctual response, swearing like the space sailor he is.

_Fuck_ . He couldn’t believe it was coming to this. So fucking pathetic. So fucking weak.

Eridan looks into Dave’s eyes, shakily breathing as he parts his lips open in a silent request for assistance with such a simple task.

  
  


Eridan jerks back with swears and a tight, pained expression and Dave’s heart lurches in response, but he keeps his expression steady. His Commander is proud- to see him like this must be an unbearable show of weakness.

“You should rest your shoulder.” Dave says, as if it’s a choice instead of something hindering Eridan from doing something as simple as feeding himself. “It’s alright, Master- I’m here to serve, aren’t I?” He smiles a little, trying to be reassuring. _You aren’t any less from being injured, Master._ “Gotta let me do my job _sometimes_ , you know.”

He scoots just a bit closer and scoops up a spoon of broth. The bowl isn’t burningly hot in his hands, so it should be fine- he brings the spoon to Eridan’s mouth.

  
  


A sad smile tugs at Eridan’s lips, and he gives a small nod to Dave.

“Doin’ such a good job,” he whispers, before slurping at the broth. It goes down easily, warming his mouth, throat, and stomach with much-needed heat. A soft groan escapes his lips, satisfied to finally be taking something into his body. A dribble of the broth drips over his lower lip, falling into his unkempt, overgrown facial hair.

“Wwhen…wwhen I’m done eatin’…shavve…” Eridan requests.

  
  


“Of course.” Dave promises, feeding Eridan with slow, careful motions. Dave doesn’t know how much the humans fed Eridan, but he’s willing to bet it wasn’t a lot- if anything at all.

Eridan is hearty, but even the heartiest beings succumb to starvation. Dave stamps down his anger and keeps feeding Eridan spoonfuls of broth, until about half the bowl was gone. Then he sets it aside.

“You shouldn’t eat too much too fast, Eridan.” Dave murmurs, retrieving the washcloth and gently cleaning Eridan’s face. “We don’t want your stomach rebelling.”

Dave is intimately aware of those feelings- the terrible, knawing ache in his stomach, so much that so that it felt like his body was caving in on itself, desperate for anything. Drinking tap water just to have  _something_ inside him, scrounging for the smallest scraps- and when Bro finally brought home food, stuffing himself with so much that he puked it all back up.

After the second time it happened, he started getting smarter- no matter how badly he wanted to gorge himself when food became available, he would have to start small and eat bits until his stomach expanded again.

Dave isn’t going to let Eridan  _ever_ feel that feeling.

He leans in and gently kisses Eridan’s forehead. “One luxurious barber shop visit coming right up.” He says, trying to aim for joking. “Just wait right here, Master- you shant lift a finger, let me do all the work.”

He slips off the bed and to the bathroom, gathering together all of Eridan’s shaving materials so that he can get Eridan looking presentable again, then returning to Eridan’s side, laying everything out.

“Try to relax, alright, Master?” Dave says- and then he gets to work.

  
  


His stomach still isn’t full, he still  _wants_ more. But he decides to put his trust in Dave, letting him set the half-full bowl aside. He’s pliable when Dave washes his face, angling his head around to allow Dave the best access to each area. And then there’s a gentle kiss on his forehead, so soft and so…innocent. Just a quick peck on the forehead from his lover, letting Eridan know it’s alright, that he’s okay.

There’s an inkling of desire to down the rest of the broth while Dave is gathering the shaving materials from the bedroom, but he again decides to trust Dave’s judgement on the matter. So instead, Eridan grabs the washcloth and sets it under his head to pick up spare trimmings coming off of his beard. They’ll likely need to wash the sheets later anyway, but anything to lessen the mess.

Dave’s back, with shaving cream, a shaving brush, more warm water, and a straight-edge razor. It really did look like a trip to the barber shop with how much care Eridan usually put into this affair. He has to look good for all the propaganda shoots and public appearances, so personal grooming was a serious matter for him.

“I’m relaxed,” Eridan replies, his voice smoother, calmer now thanks to cold water and warm broth flowing down his throat. “Go right ahead.”

  
  


Dave hums softly in acknowledgement and gets to work. He carefully trims Eridan’s beard down to a manageable length before retrieving a washcloth and getting it wet with hot water, gently holding it along the short hairs, warming Eridan’s skin and getting it wet.

Once satisfied, he whisks up the cream that Eridan usually uses for shaving and carefully, slowly, brushes it over Eridan’s jaw and neck, expression focused but touch gentle. He lathers Eridan generously and sets the cream to the side, then picks up the straight razor.

“Try to remain still.” Dave murmurs, despite the fact that Eridan does this for himself all the time.

Dave goes slow. Each little slide is precise and deliberate, pulling the edge over Eridan’s skin to make tiny little shaves, wiping the blade between every stroke. It’s meditative, almost  _worshipful_ , with how ritualistic it feels, every motion a testament to Dave’s devotion. Here he is, a blade to the throat of Commander Eridan Ampora, alien invader and the man leading the campaign to subjugate the Earth-

and the only thing in his mind is taking care of him.

  
  


The room is quiet, save for the soft  _scritch_ ing and  _scratch_ ing of shaving. Eridan remains calm as Dave applies just enough pressure to easily shave his commander’s face while also not leaving any cuts or blemishes behind. Eridan’s breathing is slow and deliberate, not wanting to make a wrong move with the straight-razor tracing over his cheeks, jaw, and throat.

It had been quite a while since Eridan’s last full shave, preferring to keep a nice, cropped beard brushing along his face. Reading through the various documents and records on his ancestor had left quite the impression on Eridan, and he had sought to model himself after the Orphaner Dualscar. Ahab’s Crosshairs, brutality and ruthlessness in the field, and even the well-groomed beard were all in line with his desire to live up to his ancestor’s reputation. Yet here he is, laying in bed, being cared for by a  _huma_ —

Eridan closes his eyes, setting those thoughts aside. He’s not going to be another Dualscar, he’s going to be his own troll. And Dave can be by his side. His first mate, his second-in-command, his…partner. Eridan doesn’t need to hate him. He…can’t hate him.

By the time Eridan blinks his eyes open, the last hairs of his beard have been shaved off. He slowly sits up as best as he can, leaning in to plant a soft, short kiss against Dave’s lips.

“Thank you.”

  
  


Dave finishes up and cleans off the razer- He’s picking up the towel to wipe the last bits of shaving cream from Eridan’s face when he’s kissed.

He melts into it instinctively, humming softly, accepting the gesture of his Commander’s thanks- and when Eridan pulls back and thanks him, Dave can only blink in surprise.

But then he smiles. “You’re welcome, Master.” Dave murmurs, gently wiping Eridan’s face clean. “I’m here to serve you, aren’t I?”

Eridan looks younger without a beard, but no less handsome- Dave really is lucky that Eridan is his Commander. There’s no one else that Dave wants.

  
  


“You’vve done such a good job a’ servvin’ me,” Eridan replies, bringing a hand up to run over his shaved jawline. It’s a weird sensation, feeling his skin instead of a decent crop of well-trimmed facial hair. But it’s better than the scraggly mess he had. He reaches his hand up to his shattered glasses, taking them off and setting them aside.

As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door; Nepeta’s announcing the mediculler has arrived. After a forced  _come in_ from Eridan, Nepeta and the mediculler enter, bringing in too much medical equipment for Eridan’s liking. He supposes it’s for the best, but he still isn’t happy about it. There’s some explaining about what needs to happen, but it’s mainly in one ear and out the other, completely uninteresting to Eridan. There’s really only one thing on his mind, a question he asks once all is laid out by the mediculler.

“If I’m bein’ put under, can he at least be here?” Eridan asks, nodding his head toward Dave. “If you wwanna be, I mean,” he follows up, now addressing Dave directly.

  
  


_If he wants to be_ . Dave almost scoffs at the implication- of  _course_ he wants to be here! Eridan is his fucking Commander! There’s nowhere else Dave  _should_ be.

The mediculler looks to Dave, who nods instead of voicing his incredulous response of  _ of fucking  _ _**course** _ _ I do _ and so the mediculler affirms that yes, Dave can be here. Dave doesn’t slump in relief, there’s no way they were kicking him out without an express command from Eridan, but at least this way he doesn’t have to fight the mediculler (because wow, that seems like a Bad Idea).

The mediculler puts Eridan under. Dave is very very glad that he took the time to make sure that Eridan is presentable, because when the mediculler gets to work, Dave sitting at the side of the bed, Dave is very vividly aware of how, even with him unconscious, Eridan would be  _humiliated_ to have anyone see him in his previous, pre-cleanup state.

Dave doesn’t leave his side the entire time the Eridan is out. Not for a second.

  
  


Eridan takes one of Dave’s hands in his own, giving it a firm squeeze of reassurance. As he slips into unconsciousness, his grip loosens, his eyes become heavy, and he drifts off. It’s his first relief in weeks. No pain, no anguish, nothing to plague him. There’s nothing, but he’d take that for now. The mediculler asks Dave to back away from the bed slightly, but they’re…soft with their request, knowing the influence Dave has over the Commander.

The mediculler takes meticulous care of Eridan, stabilizing the two broken ribs he finds. They drain the coagulated blood that had collected nearby, and stitch him back up. Silently, they wait, watching and listening to Eridan’s vitals on their hastily-prepared monitors. After a few moments of waiting, they let out a soft sigh of relief, turning to Dave.

“He shouLd be awake in a few hours. He’LL LikeLy be worn out from the surgery, so…” they hesitate, glancing over at Eridan as if he’ll jump out of the anesthetics at any moment. “So make sure he doesn’t do anything. You know how he can be, so don’t Let him push himseLf. He’LL need to be put on sopor painkiLLers for a few days and some bLoodthinners for a week or two. You know how to reach me if anything comes up, yes?”

  
  


“Of course.” Dave says automatically. Now that the mediculler has finished their work, Dave is itching to move back in, take Eridan’s hand again, but he refrains, watching Eridan’s face instead. “I’ll make sure he rests. Thanks for your help.”

The moment the door is closed behind the mediculler, Dave is settling on the edge of the bed, taking Eridan’s hand and giving it a light squeeze. Eridan will probably be out for at least another hour, hour and a half, so Dave has a bit of time to wait- but that’s alright. There’s no where else he’s meant to be.

“You’ll be right as rain in no time, Commander.” Dave whispers. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

After a minute, Dave gets up and pulls a chair over, settling into it and taking Eridan’s hand again. Then he’s leaning in, resting his head on his arm on the bed, eyes fluttering shut as the stress of the situation catches up with him, exhausting pulling him into a light doze.

  
  


Eridan has no clue how much time has passed when he wakes up. All he can do is groggily blink his eyes open, still in a mostly numb state from the sopor anesthetics. He can, however, feel a light pressure on his arm. Turning his head to the side, he sees Dave, leaning onto him from a bedside chair. He looks so…worn out. Eridan shifts his arm slightly.

“'m up, Davve,” he says, fighting to get the words past his numb, slow lips.

  
  


Dave takes a minute to realize that Eridan is speaking- but when he does, he’s snapped from his doze, raising his head and blinking at his Commander.

“Eridan.” Dave breathes, giving Eridan’s hand a squeeze and sitting up, tugging his chair closer, gaze searching his Commander’s. Eridan looks groggy- but not in pain. “The mediculler patched you right up, you’re supposed to take it easy for a couple of days.”

He squeezes Eridan’s hand again.

“How are you feeling?”

  
  


Eridan can’t help but let out an offended scoff at the idea of  _taking it easy_ for the next few days. He needs to retaliate, he needs to prove himself to his superiors that he’s still capable of performing his duties, he needs to…

Dave is squeezing his hand, looking into his eyes with such concern and care, his voice soft and gentle. Eridan can afford a few days of rest.

“Could…could be better. But I’vve got quite the second-in-command to support me,” he replies, giving Dave’s hand a squeeze in return.

Eridan winces slightly as he shifts over in bed, scooting himself over to make more room for Dave. He’s still mostly numb, but there are a few dull throbs as he moves. He ignores that pain though, instead patting the space beside him for Dave.

“Howw are you holdin’ up?”

  
  


Dave’s heart goes into overtime at the profession that his Commander thinks Dave is  _ valuable _ , thinks that Dave’s support of him is enough to rely on. It’s the tiny little things that make Dave’s heart clench like this, make Dave know that  _ yes, Eridan was right- he was right to do this to Dave, to change him like this, to make him  _ _**better** _ _ - _

Eridan pats the bed next to him and Dave, like the tides obeying the pull of the moon, comes. He slips up onto the bed and settles into place carefully next to his Master, avoiding jostling him as much as possible. He couldn’t stand the idea that he’s hurting him somehow, by accident or on purpose doesn’t matter.

“Better, now that you’re back.” Dave confesses. There’s a flicker of rage, hot and deep in his belly that he’s been suppressing, that he’s been pushing away to stay calm and put-together for Eridan, but it’s threatening to surface, now. “The things they did to you- how they _treated_ you-” He takes a deep breath. “Humans are nothing but hypocrites.” Dave spits, jerking his head away to glare angrily at the wall. “We put in all these fucking rules in place for ourselves and then we fucking break them on a fucking _whim_ \- morality is nothing but a _game_ for them to play with and then put aside when it’s obstructive.”

  
  


Eridan blinks, trying to look over Dave as best as he can. He can make out the broad strokes, his blond hair, the ruby red eyes, his soft face, but it’s…all a bit smudged and blurry. Right. His glasses had been cracked and are now on his nightstand, plus there’s dulled perceptions side effect of the sopor anesthetics. Eridan does his best to look at Dave though, tilting his head to the side. He can’t quite roll over right now, knowing his ribs are far too fragile at the moment.

He’s quiet as he listens to Dave, picking up on that tension in his voice. A small, sad smile comes up to Eridan’s face, and he nods in understanding.

“Must be glad I savved you from all that,” Eridan says, before softly coughing into a cupped hand. “Straightened you out, showwed you the truth. They’re just as bad as they say wwe are, if not wworse. But you don’t havve to wworry about it anymore.”

  
  


Eridan’s words are like a lancet on a infection- draining the rage and hurt and leaving behind nothing but relief. Dave can feel the hurt and stress slipping from him, until all that’s left is just soft, relieved contentment at having Eridan back and next to him.

“I’m _very_ glad.” Dave confirms. He wants to take Eridan’s hand and kiss it, but he has no idea how Eridan would react, so he refrains. “You saved me.” It’s matter-of-fact. “I never have to think about them again.”

  
  


“Mm,” Eridan replies, nodding. He just woke up, and yet he already feels exhausted and drained, both physically and mentally. “Think I’m gonna…sleep. Do you wwant dinner wwhen I wwake up?” Eridan asks, moving his hand to rest gently on the back of Dave’s own hand.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for just bein’ out of it,” he apologizes, tears stinging at his eyes. He was supposed to be leading his armada, and here he was, stuck in bed, doped up on painkillers, barely able to stay awake. _He_ was the one who needed protection right now, a completely foreign feeling. An unwelcome feeling.

  
  


Dave immediately shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.” He says firmly. “It’s not your fault.” His hand turns over to gently clasp Eridan’s. “You were captured and  _tortured_ , Master. I’d be fucking astonished if you  _weren’t_ out of it in some way.”

Then, because he realizes that he didn’t actually respond to the question, Dave nods. “But. Yeah. Dinner after you wake up sounds good.”

  
  


“Mm,” Eridan replies, nodding slightly, slowly. He shifts over on the bed, closer to Dave. His movements are groggy and take more energy than he’d like, still feeling the effects of the anesthesia numbing him. Slowly, he lowers his head onto Dave’s chest. His heavy eyelids slowly close, and he drifts off to sleep, curled up against Dave.

  
  


Dave hesitates a moment- but then he takes his hand and gently smooths it through his Commander’s hair. Slow and gentle, a light brushing of fingers to help relax him and lull him into sleep.

He won’t let  _ anyone _ touch his Master like that ever again. Not a single fucking being.

**Author's Note:**

> Dave's author can be found on twitter, [@LPSunnyBunny](http://www.twitter.com/LPSunnyBunny)!


End file.
